


Pinwheel Madness

by Loeka



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Gen, Self-Insert, Slow Build, The Uchiha Clan
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-05
Updated: 2015-10-12
Packaged: 2018-04-19 05:14:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 46,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4733981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Loeka/pseuds/Loeka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Being born is the most traumatic experience possible and we should all fall on our knees and thank every higher deity our minds are smart enough to erase the horrible experience at once. Unless you get reincarnated apparently.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Beauty Of Birth

Being born is _not_ an experience I ever wanted to remember. Unfortunately some higher power apparently disagreed with that.

So into the world I was sent. Accompanied by the most claustrophobic and suffocating feeling ever, with unrelenting pressure and pain, being fitted through a much too narrow opening and ending in a place too bright, too loud, too cold, too _everything_ for my newly awakened senses.

Granted, I only figured out much later what exactly had happened. At the time all I could focus on was the agony, the tearing sensation and the complete and utter confusion and fear that filled every inch of my body. There is nothing that makes you feel quite as panicked and helpless as the experience of not knowing what's happening to you. Of being in pain without reason and not having your body move the way you want it too. Being unable to form words and communicate. Not to mention I couldn't place any of the ungodly loud noise surrounding me and was practically blind.

So I did the only thing my body seemed to have no trouble doing. I cried.

I screamed as I felt my body moving and wailed as cold things touched me.

Eventually I just couldn't seem to stop crying. It was the only way for me to release the whirlwind of emotions trapped inside me and the longer I panicked, the more impossible it became to think rationally. If I'd been capable of it my emotions would've had me raging at the skies, screaming incoherently – not so different from what I was doing – pulling out my hair, stomping and kicking the ground and punching the walls until my fingers were bloody and broken.

Being born is the most traumatic experience possible and we should all fall on our knees and thank every higher deity our minds are smart enough to erase the horrible experience at once. Unless you get reincarnated apparently, then you get the pleasure of an up-close and personal view and the luxury of having those memories burned into your brain. Forever.

Eventually all the pulling and jostling around ended with me – still crying – being laid on something warm and comforting. My screams died out as my focus shifted to the calming and somehow familiar beat now playing below my ear.

_Ba-dump. Ba-dump._

The sound soothed me in a way nothing else had.

_Ba-dump. Ba-dump._

I _knew_ this sound, had known it ever since I could remember becoming aware again, when everything had been dark and strange and timeless.

_Ba-dump. Ba-dump._

It had been a constant companion, an unending beat that cradled and sheltered me and it made me relax, made me feel _safe_. Even incomplete, the beat was enough to finally calm me down.

After which I promptly fell asleep.

 

\---

 

I have no idea how long it took for me to understand what had happened. A few weeks? Months? Time was impossible to keep track of. I do know it took me a pretty long while. This may seem strange, after all, how hard could it be to realize you're a baby? Very damn hard as it turns out. Mostly because babies are blind as bats. I am not exaggerating.

Dark and light blobs would flit in and out of my vision, bringing strange sounds and smells. People, would pick me up somehow and move me, my surroundings changing from one tableau of vague colors to another.

Those first few days – weeks? – I had no clue. I thought I'd been in an accident. Not an unreasonable assumption when you're last clear memory was that of a truck frantically honking and looking up to see the giant vehicle way too close and moving too fast to have any hope of dodging. My conclusion was that the crash had damaged my eyesight, knocked out all my teeth and almost completely paralyzed me. Probably damaged my brain as well seeing as I couldn't understand anything said around me.

I cannot describe how _awful_ that thought was, how it made me rage and scream against the unfairness of it all, the anguish and desperation it caused. Was this how I was going to spend the rest of my life? Trapped and helpless inside my own body? Unable to do anything, no way to communicate?

I never believed death could be a mercy, but my existence made me doubt that. Could I live like this? Did I want to?

My thoughts kept turning in hopeless, frantic and fruitless circles, making my despair grow even larger. I told myself to stop thinking about it, knowing how pointless it was to keep obsessing but my circumstances ensured I couldn't. There was nothing to distract me from my dark thoughts, I couldn't do anything except think. And cry. So I did both. A lot.

I knew it was selfish and I was probably driving the people taking care of me up the wall, but I didn't give a damn. I was trapped inside my own body and couldn't really find it within myself to care about any inconvenience I might be causing.

The first time I ever noticed a hint that something else might be going was after I was awakened by an infant's scream.

It was one of the few things I'd noticed, how very often a baby would weep after I did, but I'd assumed they were simply other patients. I thought I was in a hospital, in a special care wing or something, and that there were patients other then myself, apparently from a variety of ages.

But that was the first time I was woken by cries other then my own. Or maybe it would be more accurate to say it was the first time I'd been calm enough to really pay attention to it. In any case, the baby was bawling and even after I noticed another person started gibbering in that incomprehensible language, the weeping didn't stop.

It took an effort not to join in, my body trained to start crying the moment I woke up just so I'd get attention, human warmth, a confirmation I was still alive. But I wasn't completely heartless – yet – and I wouldn't be so cruel as to divert attention away from an infant in distress.

Instead I listened quietly and marveled at how I could actually recognize it was a baby wailing instead of just a random person. There's just something unique about an infant's cry.

But the howling went on and on. It was grating and annoying and I felt like such a bitch for even thinking it, but my God, that baby needed to shut up. It didn't.

I don't know how long I listened to the screams, but eventually I heard the babe come closer. A lot closer. So close in fact that I was now hearing the screeching right next to my ears. Another stream of alien gibberish washed over me, almost drowned out by the intensity of the infant's wailing. And then I heard the caretaker _leave_.

What kind of moron thinks it a good idea to leave a baby alone with a near completely crippled person?

I could hear the poor thing sobbing right next to me – softer now, it's voice tinged with exhaustion – and my heart broke. So with a huge effort I forced my reluctant head to turn towards the sound, squinting at what I assumed was the nearby baby. And then I squeaked. Yes, squeaked.

My lips were barely capable of producing the letter A, but I did manage to change the tone. The notes do, mi and sol were within my very limited range and I tried to sing a lullaby. It was complete crap of course, I hadn't played music in years. But it made the babe quiet, only sniffles escaping now.

I was ridiculously proud of myself.

I continued "singing", only distantly aware of other people coming closer. In the end I got too tired to continue – because annoyingly enough I was constantly sleepy – and had to stop. But the babe didn't cry again, even breaths the only thing breaking the silence.

I'd sang him – her? – to sleep. The satisfaction that simple act gave me was profound and indescribable.

Pleased as could be, happy for the first time in ages, I closed my own eyes, physically unable to hold them open any longer and drifted off as well. There were other people present now, they'd make sure the baby was safe.

But before oblivion found me the thought came to me again. Who leaves a baby alone with an invalid as crippled as me? Who does that?

 

\---

 

The second time was another idle thought as well.

After my impromptu concert the baby was left with me more often. And by more often I mean _all the time_. Who does that?

Don't get me wrong, I wasn't complaining. The baby was a desperately welcomed diversion, something real, a focus I hadn't realized I needed. I sang at the little thing, cooed and babbled whenever he – she? – started to sniffle. I cried when I smelled he – she? – needed to change even before he – let's go with that for convenience sake – did.

I also cried when I needed to change as well. The inability to control your own bowel movements was disgusting and humiliating in a way I hadn't thought possible. I'd started getting used to it, I had to, but every time it happened I wanted to scream. Until they started leaving the baby with me I did. Every time.

Like I said, I needed that baby. I hadn't realized it until then but I'd slowly been going mad. Clinically I mean. I'd taken a year of Psychology before dropping out and one of the most important things I'd taken from that course had been the knowledge that at our basest humans are social animals. Take that contact away from us and even if all other basic needs are met we still go crazy, every single one of us.

And I'd been _starved_ for any sort of meaningful communication for who knows how long. Time was impossible to keep track of, blurry and intangible. And yes, I was held and hugged often – I think, my skin felt incredibly weird and it was hard to interpret the bizarre signals I was getting – but while that soothed the part of me that craved warmth, comfort and the instinctive need for safety, it wasn't enough.

I _needed_ communication with meaning, purpose, _reactions_.

Caring for the baby, in so far as I was able to, satisfied that need. And made it so that for the first time since I'd woken up – if you could call it that – I was able to think clearly.

I ordered my thoughts to the rhythm of lullabies. I found the clarity to look back at what I'd been doing as I listened to peaceful even breaths. And with that clarity came the realization I'd been spiraling down. Hard.

How long had it been since I'd tried? Tried to move, to talk, _to get better?_

The answer; I'd given up practically the moment I'd awoken. That knowledge made me feel  _incredibly_ disgusted with myself. Here I was, moping and wallowing, not even _trying,_ only feeling sorry for myself. Screw that.

I'd always told myself that if anything truly awful were to ever happen to me – rape, cancer, blindness – I'd fight. Fight to survive, to recover, to live and be happy. Well, I'd failed myself _spectacularly_.

No longer.

The baby forced me to move, even if it was only turning my head. But I moved. And the more I moved the easier it became to do so. Which meant I was getting better.

Even more important then any kind of communication, that baby gave me back _hope_. I don't know how I could've made it through without it.

I also didn't understand what kind of bed I had to be lying on that would allow enough room to easily and safely place a baby right next to me.

 

\---

 

Third time's the charm as they say.

I'd started working on moving my arms the way I wanted them too. And after seeing how relatively easy that was I was ashamed at myself for not trying sooner. I couldn't manage more then wild, jerky and uncontrollable swings that never went the way I wanted them too. But compared to my first effort, where I'd barely managed a single pathetic twitch, the progress was _amazing_.

At first I'd attempted to laugh victoriously each time but the resulting mutilation always sounded like I was crying and made the caretakers come and hold me. So I tried to suppress the instinctive need to announce every one of my small victories.

Instead I proudly garbled nonsense at the baby to show off my newest accomplishment. I'd managed to jerk my arms around _at the same time!_ I almost cried.

My babbling rose in volume as did my pride, until suddenly my right arm decided the law of gravity was more important than mere mortal whims and flopped back to the earth.

I groaned – or tried to, it's surprisingly hard to do without teeth – and allowed my other arm to fall as well. Right on unmistakably soft and smooth baby skin.

Startled I tried to turn my head and _oh shit_ , I didn't hurt the baby, did I? God, please no!

Panicked I was ready to unleash the massive terror building in my throat but before I could the soft, warm skin I was touching closed. It was so confusing I swallowed my scream. Also the baby wasn't crying, always a good sign.

For the first time in a long while I focused on what my nerves were telling me, in spite of the fact my skin always felt off and weird. That wasn't an exaggeration. For one, it _itched_ , constantly. Except it wasn't really an itch, more of a featherlight caress flying over every inch of exposed skin. Except not really, it's hard to explain.

But it never stopped. Sometimes it was more intense, sometimes less, yet it was always there. Not to mention the clothes I wore were always either too soft or too rough, never just right. And they were constricting, making me feel like a wrapped up mummy. Don't even get me started on the things I felt as I was hugged, my skin had a tendency to go haywire when other people were involved.

So because of all that I'd made a habit out of mostly ignoring the things my sense of touch was telling me.

Now I didn't and the information I gathered was... alarming. I could feel tiny yet pudgy fingers mindlessly grip at my wrist, not even strong enough to keep their hold, constantly clenching and unclenching.

So if that was a normal baby's hand, why was it able to nearly encircle my entire wrist?

 


	2. The Five Stages Of Grief

After that I started noticing things. Or I should say, I started paying attention.

When people now hugged me I listened to what my body was saying. And with my mind stuck on that crazy, absolutely impossible question I came to some very disturbing realizations.

The first was that either I was being taken care of by giants or I'd somehow shrunk into a midget. Weirdly enough the second notion seemed more likely. I mean, people as big as the ones that took care of me just weren't possible. For example, the last time I'd gotten changed the person doing so had covered both my feet in a single hand!

On the bright side, my troubles with interpreting the conflicting signals my nerves send out improved vastly with this new perspective.

Still, it took me a while to regain my bearings. In fact, I think I must've spend days agonizing over this knowledge. Because it didn't make any sense. It was _impossible_. People didn't shrink like that. _What was going on?_

For the first time since I'd started looking after the baby I cried, for no reason other then I could. I was once again scared and confused and  _I just wanted things to make sense!_ Was that too much to ask?

The woman who came to pick me up only made me cry harder. I felt like such an idiot, _how_ had I not noticed her hand spanned nearly my entire head when she cradled me? Or that while my cheek touched her shoulder my stomach only reached her chest? Because of "conflicting signals"? God, when people are in denial almost nothing can break through.

So of course I told myself there was a rational and logical explanation for all this. I just didn't know what it was. The lie helped me cope.

Like I said. Denial. Unbelievably powerful.

The problem was that once that first crack appeared a lot of other things suddenly started adding up. The strange language. The fact it was always the same two people coming to my aid, their smells and heartbeats distinct – never my family, never my friends - The way they always left the baby next to me without worry. My own _way_ too soft skin. The last clear memory I had.

I didn't want to think it, if I didn't it wasn't real. Yet I couldn't stop it.

Oh. My. God. _I was a baby_.

The knowledge made my brain crash. As in, I had an actual break from reality because _what the ever fucking hell?_

This was impossible, couldn't be happening. I couldn't have been reborn in a new place – _Time? Planet? Dimension?_ – with new parents and a new life because _I already had one._

I had a mother who nagged at me to do my best because she loved me. I had a father who laughed and hugged me, making me feel safe no matter what. A younger brother who could make the lamest jokes sound funny, whose every free moment was spend idly strumming his guitar or playing the piano. I had family I did quirky traditions with every year. Friends I went out with every weekend, full of laughter and teasing. I'd finally gotten a job I actually enjoyed doing, had been looking into moving out soon, searching for my own place.

It couldn't all be gone. I couldn't be gone. Except I was.

I died.

The truth made me burst into hysterical tears once again.

 

\---

 

I cried for what felt like forever. Maybe I wouldn't have reacted so badly if I could've talked about it. But I couldn't. Because I was a baby.

I cried harder.

My grief and agony drowned out every other thought, overwhelming me, _drowning_ me _._ My rage and fury at the unfairness of it all clawed at my mind, demanding to be heard. And I couldn't get it out.

So instead I just... _gave up_. I no longer looked after the baby, didn't bother to sooth him. I selfishly demanded every scrap of attention, screeched my lungs out until I fell asleep again from exhaustion, found a sadistic glee in the thought I had to be driving _the caretakers_ crazy. Because I certainly was.

And when _the caretakers_ tried to silence me, hugged and comforted me, I screamed even louder. I no longer wanted to be coddled or cared for. I didn't even want to be fed. Unfortunately my body was ruled by instinct. Ridiculously so. I couldn't even manage to skip one meal because as soon as I felt that nipple – _nipple!_ – touch my lips I literally couldn't stop myself from sucking that thing hard. The same way I couldn't stop my hands from constantly clenching and unclenching.

I _hated_ having that control taken from me, even if it was by my own body. Especially because it was my own body.

As for _the caretakers_? I resented the woman who thought she could replace my mother. I despised the man who wanted to take my father's place. And most of all, I loathed myself for acting like the childish, petty and immature infant I was.

Because I didn't _want_ to be like this, constantly angry, bitter and spiteful. I just couldn't seem to stop.

Instead I spend every waking moment brooding, stewing in my anger like the whiny, pathetic drama queen I'd apparently turned into. The fact I was aware of this changed nothing. I tried, I honestly did. But somehow my worst side always won out. So I continued crying and screeching and wailing. And the darkest, most vindictive part of me was satisfied by the knowledge I was not alone in my suffering.

I made sure of that.

The baby was the only one still capable of making me feel a shred of sympathy. But for a long time– or what seemed a long time to me – he couldn't stop me from screeching my lungs out.

 _The caretakers_ tried everything, I think they even took me outside a few times. It didn't work.

When they held me I cried in protest, in disgust. _Who do you think you are? Strangers trying to take the place of my parents? I don't know you, I don't want to know you!_ And when they put me down I cried even harder. Because as much as I resented them, I wanted to be alone even less. It didn't make any sense. It didn't have to. _Why did you leave? Don't leave me, I don't want to be alone, I'm scared, I'm drowning, please, HELP ME!_

My mind had become unstable in a frightening way. I suppose I shouldn't be so surprised by that. Humans work out issues in large part by talking about them. Or writing them down. Or putting on a show of charades. It doesn't matter _how_ , the simple act of sharing your problems in any way is very often enough to help you work through them.

And I couldn't do that. Because I was a baby. Which was something I really needed to get off my chest. But I couldn't. _Because I was a baby._

That was the root of my problems. But the loss of my _entire life_ was a close second.

 

\---

 

I honestly don't know what would've happened if I hadn't managed to break that downward spiral. Probably gone completely mad. More then I already was anyway.

Luckily the baby came to my rescue once again.

It was... I had no idea how long after my breakdown, but as per usual I woke up abruptly – yes, babies wake up _abruptly_ , it's disconcerting as hell – and I assume it was night, seeing as I couldn't see anything, not even vague shapes or colors.

If it hadn't been for the soft, even breaths right next to me I would've started wailing right then and there. Yet a small, barely surviving part of me was still capable of empathy. The baby was sleeping.

I wouldn't wake him simply to punish him. I wasn't that far gone, not yet.

But the quiet that followed was so much worse then my screams. Because without my anger as a shield the knowledge _burned_. This wasn't my home, my life, my family. I _missed_ them, with an ache that cut deeper then any physical wound ever could.

I missed my mom's voice, the slight Dutch accent she still had after all these years. I missed my dad's laugh, the rich sound warming every room he was in. I missed my brother's music, songs constantly dancing through our house. I missed my friends, the stupid, ridiculous things we dared each other to do.

My anger masked a sorrow so deep I was sure it would swallow me whole. And the worst part of it all was, no matter how hard I tried to distract myself, blaming others, punishing them, hurting them, I couldn't escape the knowledge that _it didn't matter._ Because my life was gone.

Attempting to keep quiet didn't stop sobs from escaping my control.

Then the most curious thing happened.

 _Sol, sol, do._  
_Sol, sol, do._  
_Sol, sol, do._

The squeaky sounds were so surprising they made me quiet. I turned my head towards the source and wondered what the baby was doing – _anything as a distraction, please, I don't want to think any more_ – There was a distinct rhythm and even clear tones to the slightly garbled sounds he continued to utter. It was extremely confusing and I could not for the life of me figure out what he was doing.

So I listened in puzzled silence, practice making me effortlessly ignore my wet cheeks, runny nose and the small saliva puddle beneath me. The baby stopped it's strange doings shortly after. Too tired to continue I guess. Or maybe he simply lost interest, being an infant.

A small infant, just like my baby cousin. She's not even a year old. I was never going to see her again.

The tears and sniffles started again. God, why couldn't I _stop_? Why did my every thought circle back to...

Why me? What have I ever done to deserve this? Why –

 _Sol, sol, do._  
_Sol, sol, do._  
_Sol, sol, do._

What was that baby doing? My cousin never did anything like that, she couldn't manage more then random nonsense. This though, this had a rhythm, a purpose, almost like –

…

It couldn't be, he was just a baby! Wasn't he? I mean, technically speaking I couldn't be one hundred percent sure he was, he could've been a toddler for all I knew. He wasn't. I knew, with complete certainty, this was a very young baby, an infant. I shied away from how I knew, didn't even dare think the words. Instead I focused on this mystery, let it consume my every thought. If he was simply an infant...

I had to be imagining things, seeing patterns where there were none. Another sign of my deteriorating mental heath I suppose. But just to be sure I waited until the baby fell silent once more. Then I let out a few experimental sniffles, false for once.

The baby promptly started "singing" again.

And this time my sobs were real, tears falling even faster then before. The baby was trying to comfort me.

I broke.

Someone _cared_ , someone heard my cries, my anguish and tried to help. It was such an insignificant act but to me it meant the world. It wasn't the same as the caretakers whom I couldn't help but despise. I knew that was petty and unfair, _I knew_. That didn't change my emotional response to them.

But the baby was different. He was innocent, just an unfortunate bystander in the tragedy that was my life. And he was trying to comfort me. Me, who made his life living hell.

I'd done _nothing_ to deserve such kindness. God, I'd _drowned_ myself in endless poisonous and spiteful thoughts, my every act selfish and deliberately cruel.

I was a horrible person, a sadistic, bitter, spiteful bitch.

And still the baby tried to comfort me.

_Sol, sol, do.  
Sol, sol, do._

Every note was a stab to the heart and I cried as I'd never done before. It cleansed me.

Each tear seemed to contain a piece of my anger, my rage and grief, my denial I would never return home. Each sob made me a little lighter, a weight lifting, allowing me to breath, to grieve, to _accept_.

I cried for my mother whose hugs I would never feel again. For my father who'd never make my favorite food again just because. For my brother who'd never make me laugh ever again. For my aunts and uncles, my cousins and grandmothers. For my friends.

I cried for all I'd lost and would never get back.

And when the caretaker came and picked me up _I let go_.

After which I fell asleep. Of course.


	3. A New Perspective

After that things got better. Or rather, my behavior did.

I stopped my constant wailing and instead went back to focusing all my attention and care onto the Baby. My sudden mood switch must've baffled my caretakers but I can't imagine them complaining. I'd been acting like a little monster. It took an _enormous_ amount of effort not to continue doing that. One life-changing crying session did not magically change the fact that for who knows how long – _Weeks? Months?_ – I'd conditioned my body to not only act like a horrible little monster, but to think like one as well.

It was a continuous struggle not to fall into those same patterns again.

But I'd resolved to do better, to stop taking out my rage and grief on other innocent parties. It wasn't the caretakers' fault I was here. In fact, they were victims as well.

They'd expected a regular daughter. Instead they got me.

So I promised myself to be on my best behavior, to not trouble them any further then I had to. That did not in any way, shape or form stop the ugly, vicious and petty thoughts I had about them. Yes I knew they weren't at fault, yes I knew they were victims as well. But knowingly or not they were still trying to take the place of my parents. I couldn't stop myself from resenting them for that.

It's odd, while I'd always believed that in a true life or death situation I would cheerfully run across corpses, I'd never thought myself capable of this depth of scorn and disdain.

It... it wasn't _quite_ hate, but is was close. So close I could feel myself teetering on the edge. And it scared me.

I've never hated anyone in my life. Feared? Yes. Disliked? Immensely. But hate? No, I was far too selfish for that. I have honestly never seen the point of investing so much time, energy and passion into something or someone I don't even like.

Maybe my feelings were caused by the fact I couldn't get away from them. After all, normally if I met a person I didn't get on with or whom I had unsolvable problems with, I _avoided_ them, simple as that. My reasoning? You only have a limited amount of time on this world, better spend it doing the things you like doing.

… My current circumstances may need me to revise that statement.

Still, I'd always been a fairly calm, lazy and hedonistic person – never saw much point in lying to myself. Others? Yes. Me? No. I tried not to anyway – so the fact simple isolation made me this spiteful was both shocking and frightening.

I didn't like the person I'd become.

Unfortunately it was very difficult to change this. I could control my behavior, my thoughts were a different matter entirely.

But I tried. I forced myself to name one positive thing about my caretakers each time they held me. Yet one thought about how warm they were was not enough to stop my mind from whispering _his voice is too low, her hands are too rough, he's too hard, she smells like spices and not shampoo._

I could find endless faults within them, whether I wanted or not.

So I focused on the Baby instead.

 

\---

 

Life went on. I woke, I listened, I ate, I slept, I sang – sometimes the Baby and I had duets. Cutest thing ever – I pooped and peed and I slept some more. It wasn't exactly stimulating. Not to mention I still had a tendency to randomly burst out crying.

I'd accepted I couldn't go back, I really had. Didn't mean I couldn't grieve for what I'd lost. So often with no real reason there would be a scent, color or sound that triggered my memories. Hence the crying.

It was hard. It took so much conscious effort not to fall into that same ugly, malicious downward spiral as before.

Without the Baby I couldn't have managed. He was the only person, the only thing, period, I still felt positive emotions for.

It wasn't exactly healthy. Okay, no, it was extremely unhealthy. I was using this innocent babe as an anchor for my sanity, assigning more meaning and value to his actions then were there. He was an _infant_. While he still continued to sing to me every time I cried it was highly unlikely this was anything more then a clever mimic of my own behavior. He'd learned singing equated silence, and his lullabies were probably motivated by a desire to shut me up.

Our duets were nothing more then some random yet stimulating sounds to him.

It didn't have anything to do with care, comfort or love. Didn't stop me from assigning those emotions to his every action anyway. I was projecting, I know, shut up brain.

But how could I not? Every time he "sang" to me my heart melted into a puddle of goo, mushy and warm. When I felt his soft skin, his small, pudgy hands gripping my own I wanted to cuddle the little thing for all he's worth. And when he cried, fear and worry filled my mind, my desire to see him happy a near obsession.

So yes, I was much too emotionally invested in a baby who wouldn't even notice if I were to suddenly disappear. Still better then slipping into an endless cycle of blame and bitterness.

And then things got interesting. Because I started to _see_.

 

\---

 

I can't pinpoint the exact moment my vision started improving. It happened so gradually that while yes, I was aware I was making out some more vague details now – small dark blobs where eyes should be, a difference between hair and skin – I didn't really process what that meant. It developed too slowly for that.

Yet at the same time too fast. Until one day I woke up and when my female caretaker came to feed me I suddenly noticed with an enormous amount of shock I could make out her face.

A young woman with pale skin, dark hair and big black eyes. She was about the same age I was. Or had been. Still, she must've been about twenty years old and as I mindlessly suckled I kept my fascinated eyes on her face.

She smiled at me.

Not just a smile, she looked at me and I could see the love she felt, the happiness I inspired simply by being here. It redoubled my guilt.

I'd done _nothing_ to deserve such unconditional affection. More than that, I'd done my best to make her life as difficult as possible, had thought awful, vicious things about her. And here she was. Smiling. At me.

So of course I cried. Her worried eyes and soothing noises only made it worse. Luckily I fell asleep again almost immediately.

The next time I woke up I was back in mine and the Baby's crib. I could hear the Baby sleeping and turned my head towards him – as always – but it was too dark to make anything out. I pouted.

I _really_ wanted to know what that babe looked like.

But seeing as I couldn't right now I went back to practicing motions, kicking up my feet as high as they could go. I had to do _something_ to keep me entertained. That way my mind wouldn't constantly flit back to my caretaker's smile.

After all, just because I could see them now didn't mean anything would change. Right?

_Right._

 

\---

 

Wrong. I was so very wrong.

It was easy to have irrational resentment festering when the targets of my ire were faceless strangers. It's something else entirely to have such negative thoughts about people who were constantly happy to see me.

The man who took care of me had dark hair and black eyes as well, along with a truly spectacular chin, even to my still poor sight. I suppose he could've looked intimidating, especially as he seemed so very huge to me. But it was impossible to feel fear when he stuck out his tongue just to make me laugh, when his blurry eyes were somehow always warm when they looked at me.

The man carried me around, twirled me in circles, made colorful toys rattle to entertain me and the Baby, made silly faces at us just to see us smile.

The woman blew raspberries on my belly, making me giggle and squeal, babbled to amuse us, hugged us when we cried.

One night, when all my dreams kept showing me memories of the things I'd lost, when I woke in tears every time, the man came and held me. He hugged me in his arms, safe and warm and comforted me each time I woke up sobbing, rubbing my back, murmering nonsense that somehow soothed.

Thing is, they'd done all this before as well. And I'd despised them for it, these faceless beings trying to take my parents' place. But now? Now I _saw_ them. And somehow that changed everything.

They still weren't my parents. I didn't think they ever could be. But they loved me, cared for me. And with my vision confirming what I'd known intellectually already, my resentment and rancor simply... slipped away.

One day I woke up and when the man lifted me I didn't think _he's too big, not my dad_. Instead I heaved my hand towards his mouth and laughed as he licked. Somehow, without my noticing, I'd begun to have genuine affection for these strangers.

But that feeling was a candle compared to the bonfire that was my love for the Baby.

Just as my improved vision – for a given of improvement anyway, distance was my most hated enemy now – had allowed me to empathize with my caretakers, so too had it improved my feelings for the Baby.

The difference was I'd already cared about that babe. A lot. Seeing that tiny face, the toothless smile aimed my way and him generally being _utterly adorable_ transformed that care – and mild obsession – into love, pure and simple.

He. Was. So. Cute.

It was almost painful. Okay, no, it wasn't, but the intensity of my love was surprising. And a little odd. I think the only time I ever felt anything like it was when I was young and my brother was this tiny toddler I had to protect – as much as a five year old could anyway – and I'd vowed to myself to keep him safe and happy.

While I didn't love my brother any less now that I was an adult – had been an adult – I also didn't feel that same fierceness anymore. But this babe brought it back.

How could he not? That small button nose, the fluffy dark down crowning his head, his big black eyes and too cute for words smile. That little cherub would've stolen my heart with minimal effort even without my unhealthy attachment to him.

He was one of those babies you couldn't help but coo at. I feared the day he figured that out as well. I already knew I'd never be able to deny him anything.

Funnily enough, I still wasn't completely sure whether he was a boy or not. It's not like he was ever naked in my presence – not even during bath time, we were washed individually with wet towels – and my eyes weren't developed enough to make out the details when he got changed. Damn my bad sight!

No, I can't think like that. Compared to what it used to be my vision now was nothing short of miraculous. Besides, I was a baby. It could only get better from here on out.

 

\---

 

It did. Suddenly it seemed as if my eyes were rapidly trying to make up for all the visuals I'd missed.

After what seemed like no time at all I woke up one day to find the Man's hair was a deep, dark brown, only a shade away from black. His face was lined with small yet perceptible wrinkles, making me unsure of his age. But his eyes always lit up when they looked at the Baby. Or me.

The Woman on the other hand had hair so black it possessed the slightest hint of blue, visible only when the light hit her head just right. Her skin was an unbelievably white color, smooth and flawless. Her full lips always seemed to smile.

And most interestingly of all, both their slanted eyes possessed the same incredible color. Solid black, pupils indistinguishable from the iris, even when the Woman came so close her nose touched mine. So close I could count every one of her thick lashes.

The Baby had those same flawless obsidian eyes as well - _did I?_ \- the resemblance undeniable. But these weren't the only things suddenly visible.

I started to notice the Man usually wore blue and gray tunics, muted and understated, yet possessing a certain elegance. The woman however wore more colorful outfits – though still rather subdued – and seemed to have a greater variety of clothes. Dresses, blouses, shorts, skirts, aprons. Compared to the man she was a chameleon.

Yet these were _nothing_ compared to my own clothes and those of the Baby. We were constantly dressed up in unbelievably _gorgeous_ outfits and now that I could see them I was blown away. Beautiful white, blue and red fabrics wrapped around us, intricate designs and symbols woven throughout in shifting colors. I could spend hours tracing the graceful lines. Flowers, vines, trees, leaves. Butterflies, birds, tigers dragons. Mysterious characters, their meaning unknown but whose sheer delicacy demanded awe. Sometimes it seemed as if there was no end to the different garments our caretakers put us in.

Then I started noticing the floor, neat wooden planks all perfectly aligned. That led me to observing the walls, seeing the dark brown grid for the first time, the white squares between them reminding me of anime's I used to watch.

When the screen opened and we were taken to what seemed like a magical place full of wondrous colors but what must've been a garden I spend the entire time transfixed by the bright nature around me. The Baby seemed enthralled as well.

It wasn't just my sight that was improving.

I began to distinguish rhythm in the strange language flowing around me, words becoming distinct and clear even if I still didn't understand them. Emotions were becoming recognizable by tone, their essence understood even if the details still eluded my grasp.

One day I pulled hard at the bars surrounding our crib, an idle exercise I sometimes indulged in, and suddenly I found myself sitting upright.

The act left me stunned. It also made the Baby follow my example almost immediately. That made me stare. It was one thing for me to do this, another thing entirely for a real baby to so see this happen and then deliberately decide to copy me. And succeed. Or sing for that matter. I was starting to have the suspicion this baby was exceptionally bright. It filled me with a strange sort of pride.

Seeing the man radiate that same feeling for us – _for me_ – when he came back a little while later was awkward though. I refused to examine why, knowingly didn't want to confront that particular tangle yet.

Because the world was opening up. For the first time in what felt like forever I was almost perfectly content and happy. Bored? Sometimes. Frustrated? _Oh_ _yes_. But despite my grumbling at the lack of progress and stimulation I was at peace. I never wanted that feeling to go away.

So of course something had to go wrong.

 


	4. Breaking Through The Wall

In the beginning I didn't notice. How could I? Despite what fanfics would have you believe this really isn't a conclusion your brain automatically jumps to.

But like discovering I was a baby, eventually there were just too many things adding up.

It started out small. Sometimes the Man wore what seemed like a kind of uniform instead of his normal clothes. A heavy green vest lined with mysterious pouches, thick black pants framed by soft cloth imprinted with white diamonds and finishing with some kind of metal plate bound across his upper arm.

It was _fascinating_.

The first time I saw, or perhaps it's better to say I noticed, I couldn't stop reaching for the glinting metal. As always the Man indulged me, my tiny chubby hands allowed to caress cold steel. With some effort I made out the symbol etched on. An embellished spiral. I wondered at it's meaning.

But I didn't find it anything more then a simple curiosity. The same with all the other clues I was now beginning to pick up. I suppose it was like my sight, it happened too slow yet too fast at the same time. Or maybe my unconscious belief this couldn't be possible made me unable to connect the dots. Made it so that not even a whisper of idle musings reached me. Or maybe all these small clues were simply buried beneath all the other sensory input I was now managing to decipher.

Because shortly after my vision started improving dramatically our caretakers started taking the Baby and I outside. It was _fantastic_. To me it seemed to be the gates to an entirely new world.

Tall, proud trees lined the streets, their branches stark and reaching for the heavens. Deep red, sad brown and defiant yellow leaves continued to cling stubbornly to weathered bark.

Quaint, oriental style houses dotted the landscape, radiating peace and tranquility, their lines clean and elegant. So different from the Western cities I was used to. And then there were the people.

Most of them had dark hair and black eyes I discovered shortly – there were exceptions, like the woman with flaming scarlet hair – and I couldn't help my growing certainty this place was Asian. Or at least very similar. Though there were other things that made me doubt that. Like the clothes people wore.

While some of them wore simple tunics like the Man – _Yukata? Kimono? Was the language even Japanese? Chinese? Korean?_ – most of them wore a bizarre variety of outfits, from form fitting and practically see-through catsuits to bulky, concealing robes and every possible variation and color in between. The only shared thing – and even then, there were exceptions – was that same metal plate, even the green vests weren't so common.

No, that wasn't quite true. There was one symbol I could not escape. Everywhere, and I mean _everywhere_ we went I saw a red and white circle.

I'd noticed it before, how could I not? Both the Baby and I were constantly wearing it, the mark proudly displayed on the back of every outfit we had. On those of our caretakers too for that matter. And after we started going outside I realized every person I saw was wearing that exact same symbol somewhere. On their back, their front, their shoulders, their legs. The size and placement differed, the symbol didn't.

And it wasn't just the people. I saw that thing painted on walls, drawn on flags, displayed on every gate. I even saw _chopsticks_ with that mark delicately imprinted – also, another sign this place was oriental.

The mark was an oddity, but not one I considered important. I'd been seeing it too long for that. When I had first started making it out I'd vaguely questioned why it seemed familiar. But as other, more interesting things started demanding my attention I put the question out of my mind.

The possibility of my reality wasn't even a shadow in my mind. And it colored my every perception. Such as when I learned the Baby's name. And my own.

The language was slowly, very slowly becoming clearer. Until one day – I don't know why, maybe my brain was finally developed enough – the Woman was babbling to me and I realized there were two distinct words she kept on repeating.

Uchiha Hanako.

That was my name. I can't really explain how I knew, my brain made the link without any conscious input. But I knew with absolute certainty it was my name.

Uchiha Hanako. I liked it.

My old name had too many memories associated, too many losses. Uchiha Hanako didn't. She was a new person, a new start.

_I am Uchiha Hanako._

I was so satisfied with that decision it didn't even register I'd already vaguely recognized the name Uchiha from somewhere. Maybe I'd been hearing it too long for that as well, even if I hadn't understood it before.

And just like I made the connection those two words meant my name, almost immediately after I suddenly understood which words belonged to the Baby.

Uchiha Itachi.

My first immediate question was _isn't Itachi a Japanese boy's name? So the baby is a boy? The language is Japanese?_

And then, I had a revelation. _Oh, guess Uchiha is my last name then._

It's amazing how much the human mind can warp reality to meet our own perceptions. Even when we don't know we're doing it. _Especially_ when we don't know we're doing it.

And to break through that wall I would have to be confronted with something so overwhelming, so mindbogglingly big I wouldn't be able to unconsciously rationalize it away.

Like three giant heads carved into a mountain.

 

\---

 

The day my world imploded started like any other.

I woke before the Baby – _Itachi_ I reminded myself – and spend those first few moments simply looking at him. By now I knew completely without doubt he was a boy. Because a few days ago he'd somehow wiggled out of his dirty diaper – no, I still didn't understand how he'd managed that one – and gotten his crap literally _everywhere._

It had given me a very clear view of his naked body. A boy it was.

It was also an experience I never _ever_ wanted to remember and I'd been doing my best to erase every horror filled moment from my mind. The small confines of our crib had meant I had no way to escape the flying nightmare. It was only slightly less traumatizing then being born. The Woman's hysterical laughter hadn't helped either.

I still wasn't sure I could ever forgive Itachi for this unique experience. I would forever be able to say with complete accuracy whether something tasted like shit.

Itachi sneezed. I forgave him. He was lucky he was so cute.

As always the Baby – _Itachi_ – woke up shortly after me. It was as if he had some kind of internal alarm that roused him immediately after I did. His lids snapped open, bleary and sleepy eyes searching my own.

With surprisingly little effort I rolled to my stomach, bringing me almost nose to nose with him. He smiled.

Honestly, how could I resist?

And because Itachi was still an infant, right after that beautiful image he scrunched up his nose and prepared to cry. Quickly I looked around but his toy ring was nowhere in sight.

So Itachi cried. I winced.

I didn't even bother to sing, simply joined the wailing in the hope our caretakers would come soon. The Woman appeared almost immediately, as always. And proving once again the almost mythical ability she possessed at understanding us she immediately gave Itachi his toy.

He stopped his sobbing at once, frantically chewing on the cold ring instead. Satisfied I stopped my wailing as well.

Itachi had started teething. It was not a pleasant experience, for any of us. Still, I couldn't imagine what the poor thing had to be feeling. I would soon though.

Seeing the Baby – _Itachi!_ – occupied the Woman picked me up, ready to feed me. By now it didn't even register I was sucking a nipple, food was food. Oddly sweet milk filled my stomach until I was warm and content. Burping came next.

Itachi came after and protested loudly against having his chilled relief taken from him. I think that was the reason she'd started feeding us separately.

After making him burp as well Itachi and I were each changed into intricately decorated outfits as per usual. As Itachi happily suckled his ring once more I let my sensitive fingers glide over the gold tread hidden within the flames licking up his sleeves. My own weaving vines, while gorgeous as well, weren't nearly as eye-catching and by extension not as interesting.

I wondered whether my sudden and inexplicable fascination with bright colors was caused by my body's instincts. Most babies were little magpie's after all. The fact I wasn't an infant mentally didn't mean I wasn't one biologically. That would also explain my concentration issues.

The Woman turned away shortly, but I was too focused on the contrast between flashy orange and ruby red to really pay attention. That is, until I saw her put on two slings. She only ever wore those when she was planning on taking us out for a long walk.

My excitement rose. Maybe we'd go visit new places!

And indeed, soon we were each securely strapped to her front, placed so that we could see clearly all around us. And so that Itachi could easily keep hold of his ring. I wondered how that thing stayed so pleasantly chilled. It never seemed to warm up.

We wove through winding streets, past large gates and into another maze of tree filled boulevards. As always I stared around, enraptured. It was one of those rare walks we went to places the red-white symbol _wasn't_ plastered on everyone and everything. I liked these walks best.

Mostly because the people here were even more colorful then those I was used to. As we walked I noticed blond hair, red, brown, gray, white, _blue_. That couldn't be natural.

Eventually we ended up in front of a large flat. Well, large by this place's standards, what with only having about four floors. I think.

The Woman took us all the way up, seemingly unbothered by the massive climb. As she stopped in front of a door I noticed not even the slightest hitch in her breath. It was an interesting little puzzle because she didn't _seem_ that fit.

She rapped the door sharply and I heard the distinctive sound of something crashing before the door was yanked open, so abruptly it startled Itachi into dropping his chewtoy. The Woman caught it effortlessly, not even looking down. She gave back his toy and when I was satisfied Itachi was happy once more I shifted my focus to the familiar and excited babbling filling the air.

A beautiful young woman stood in the doorway, smiling widely. Her hair was the most vivid shade of red I'd yet to see so of course I was instantly transfixed.

This always happened when we met this woman. I'd already concluded a while ago she had to be a good friend of our caretakers, the Woman in particular, seeing how often she came over to our house. This was the first time we'd visited hers though.

Instantly I put out my arms and Red – the name I'd given her, original, I know – scooped me up, twirling me above her head. I giggled, butterflies inside my stomach fluttering madly.

I adored Red.

The Woman followed us inside, Itachi's arms now outstretched as well, the little copycat. In an amazing show of dexterity Red balanced me on one arm and single handedly freed him as well, her circling around never faltering. Itachi joined in on the giggling, ring abandoned to the floor. Red was making the most amazing sound effects as she carried us around.

Past the kitchen, up a table, across a couch and somehow ending with us flat on our back on the floor. Her groan sounded like surrender. Really, was it any wonder she was my favorite?

The Woman came closer, sitting down on a truly humongous couch, toy in hand and completely unruffled by our dramatic entrance. She and Red started talking and I heard mine and Itachi's name fall but I was far more interested in my new surroundings. As Red tickled Itachi I used the table to pull myself upright.

The flat I found myself in consisted of a wide open pace, with one giant, blindingly orange sofa sitting right in the middle. I literally could not start looking anywhere else. The thing not only looked big enough to fit four or five people easy but was also _decadently_ plush.

I kept expecting the Woman to be swallowed up but somehow she managed to sit primly, back so straight it seemed she was daring that eyesore to make her slouch. Red had no such compulsions. As Itachi began to sniffle she plucked the ring from the Woman's hand and in one fluid motion sprawled across half the couch, Itachi securely placed on her stomach.

The people here were ridiculously graceful.

My gaze finally managed to dart further, spying the kitchen we'd passed so quickly in one corner, stacks of empty cups threatening to spill onto the floor. My eyes followed the soft yellow walls to a few haphazardly placed posters, colorful and filled with meaningless – but very oriental looking – squibles. Below them were cabinets filled with pictures and knickknacks.

And then I discovered the true treasure of this place. The window. It took over almost an entire wall, framed by beautiful azure curtains, so sheer and delicate they seemed to float through the air instead of drape. Sunlight illuminated an unbelievably lush assortment of flowers arranged neatly in front, drawing all my attention and focus in a flash.

Vivid green contrasted with cheery yellow, startling purple clashed with proud white. These flowers were defiantly flourishing, vibrant and blooming as if summer was in full swing. As if outside autumn hadn't practically finished stripping the trees. Their petals seemed so _soft_. Red must have an amazing green thumb. I wanted to get closer and smell them but didn't feel like trying to make that clear to the Woman. So instead I kept my enthralled gaze on the beautiful chaos of colors. I studied each flower intently, followed the lines from one petal to the next. It was amazing how completely those plants captured my entire focus.

But eventually I got curious about the rest of my surroundings again and I looked up, above the foliage and out the window. This was a mistake.

I'd known this village, city, whatever, had been built next to mountains. It's a little hard to miss, with the giant cliffs looming over every place we went.

But my vision wasn't perfect yet. I could see surprisingly well now and the closer something was, the better I could make out even the tiniest of details. Anything further then across the street though, quickly became more and more blurry. So while I'd seen the cliffs before, it had always been from a certain distance.

That wasn't the case this time.

Red's window was so close the mountain filled almost the entire view, sky barely visible. It was so near, the window so well placed that for the first time I could make out the odd irregularities I sometimes saw.

And I gaped. Mouth open, jaw slack and eyes wide I _stared_.

Because those irregularities were carvings. Huge carvings. Carvings so massive they took up more then half the visible mountain. So big that even with my horrible shortsightedness I was able to make out what they were.

Three giant heads were carved into that mountain. Three heads I recognized. Because I'd seen them before. In a manga. Called Naruto.

The wall shattered.


	5. Getting The Facts Straight

I didn't break down crying. Not for long, anyway.

Because after I overcame that instinctive, desperate need to make my confusion heard I just kind of... shut down. It wasn't that I suddenly became blind, deaf or numb. But it took active concentration on my part to decipher all the information my senses were constantly receiving. I had to process and place every piece of data individually. And I simply stopped making myself understand the world.

Part of me was still aware of my surroundings, but it was distant and vague, an already forgotten dream.

Another part of me was lining up all the things I'd missed or hadn't been able to figure out. The forehead protectors. The Konoha symbol. The Uchiha fan. All the pieces fell into place one by one.

And yet another part of me was running around in hysterical circles while frothing at the mouth and kept screaming at me that _this was not possible!_

But the biggest part of me simply existed in stunned stupor.

At some point we must've returned home, and I even got changed and fed. A very tiny sliver of my mind was aware of this. Most of me was not.

I do know it was dark when I snapped out of it. I blinked and somehow found myself lying in my and Ita – _the Baby's_ crib. I could hear his breaths next to me, deep and even. I turned towards him.

Everything felt very... thick. As if my thoughts were forced to wade across an ocean in order to reach me. I counted the Baby's breaths.

I blindly stretched out my hand until I encountered soft skin. His fingers closed around mine.

This was Itachi Uchiha.

And with that my brain promptly decided it was done and made me fall asleep.

 

\---

 

When I woke up the next morning it took me a moment to remember. Then I couldn't forget.

I blinked at the ceiling. Waited a beat. Blinked again. I turned towards the Baby. The Baby named Itachi.

Itachi, who would one day grow up and kill his entire family. The Man, the Woman, every person I'd met and seen walking the streets. All of them would die by his hand.

I looked at the Baby blowing spit bubbles next to me. The image did not compute.

I still couldn't really process the knowledge of where I was, never mind the possible implications. I had no concrete thoughts, not even vague notions of possible actions I might take. I was barely aware of what this would mean for the Baby, couldn't even phantom what it would mean for me.

There was too much chaos in my mind. I didn't know what to do. Didn't know how to change things. I didn't know if I could. Didn't even know if I should. And yet...

Could I let the Baby suffer if I had the power to change it?

No. No, I could not.

Numb and in shock I still knew one thing with complete certainty.

I would do anything to protect the Baby. Itachi. _My twin._

For the first time I allowed myself to admit our connection. I couldn't before, not when I already had a brother I loved. The Baby, Itachi, could never take his place. And I hadn't dared to even think of him as such, fearing I'd lose him to the same resentment that had poisoned me against my caretakers.

Yet I'd known, even if I hadn't admitted it to myself. The moment I had understood what had happened to me, I'd known. I just hadn't been able to accept it.

But my new knowledge changed that. Made it so it didn't matter anymore.

I loved Itachi. My brother. My twin. And because I loved him I had to try.

It was the only clear thing I could still understand, my anchor in the insanity that was apparently my life.

My mind was in complete disarray, uncertain and conflicted, overwhelmed and overworked. But that resolution never wavered, only grew stronger as the rest of me fell to pieces.

I would protect the Baby. Itachi. I would keep him safe and happy.

No matter what.

 

\---

 

About a week later I decided enough was enough.

Or maybe I finally reached a point where I could start thinking rationally about all this. In so far as rationality applies to living in a fictional world. In any case, my mind finally calmed down enough for me to form coherent thoughts again. So after the Man put us to bed I turned towards the Ba – _Itachi_ and took his hand so he wouldn't wake. And then I started to think.

First things first. What did I actually remember about the Naruto world?

Not as much as I liked.

When I'd been a teenager I'd read the manga obsessively, but that had been nearly a decade ago. And while I'd still read the occasional fanfic I hadn't followed the actual story in a long time. By extension my knowledge of the plot became incredibly flawed the further it progressed.

Ironically enough I'd been planning to binge read the entire series now that it was finally finished but... Well, I died. That was one very painful thought. Focus.

What _did_ I remember? Start at the beginning.

Thirteen years before the start of the series the Kyuubi attacks Konoha. The Fourth Hokage seals it into his newborn son, Naruto, at the cost of his own life. Naruto's mother, Kushina Uzumaki, the previous Kyuubi jinchuuriki also dies.

Afterwards the Third becomes Hokage again. Also, the Uchiha are suspected of being responsible for the Kyuubi attack. Because their Sharingan could control it? Not completely sure about that one. One the other hand, what _can't_ the Sharingan do?

Holy hell! _I_ could – nope, not thinking about that yet, stay with the facts.

So. At about the same time Naruto starts going to the academy, the Uchiha Clan are planning a coup which would lead to a new World War. In order to prevent that from happening Itachi kills the entire Clan except his little brother. And he does so on Konoha's orders. He then becomes an S-rank missing nin and joins Akatsuki as a double agent. Eventually he has a final battle with Sasuke and Sasuke kills him – _the Baby!_ – with Sasuke only learning the truth _after_ Itachi's death. And discovering Danzo is somehow responsible for it all and stole the dead Uchiha's eyes to make a Sharingarm. Of these facts I am certain. Itachi had always been one of my favorite characters.

It was very disconcerting to realize the little babe who'd thrown his poop at me was that same mysterious and lethal genius. Moving on.

The manga officially starts with Naruto failing his ninja graduation and getting tricked into stealing the Forbidden Scroll. He learns the Shadow Clone Jutsu. He learns about the Kyuubi inside him. He saves Iruka from Mizuki. He graduates.

Team Seven is formed, consisting of Naruto, the lovable idiot, Sakura, the fangirl, Sasuke, the broody avenger, and led by Kakashi, the tardy, quirky and eternally masked jounin.

They soon get the Wave mission and meet Haku and Zabuza. Team Seven learns about the power of friendship, making Sasuke activate his Sharingan and Naruto use the Kyuubi's chakra for the first time. Both Haku and Zabuza die in a very sad way. But the mission itself is a success. _The Great Naruto Bridge._ One of the few details I still remembered clearly.

Team Seven returns to Konoha and Kakashi nominates them for the chuunin exams. They pass the first test. Something about a trick question and having to cheat to win. And with Naruto fumbling through using sheer determination and luck. Of course.

In the second test they meet Orochimaru in the Forest of Death. He gives Sasuke the cursed seal, knocks out Naruto and then Sakura gets a single moment to shine. Although I can't recall anything beyond her cutting her hair.

After they get through the Forest they make it to the finals. Well, Naruto and Sasuke do. Naruto gets trained by Jiraiya and Sasuke by Kakashi. During the finals the ninja from Sound and Sand invade Konoha. Naruto goes after Gaara, the Shukaku jinchuuriki, and through the use of superior firepower – and a giant toad – manages to befriend him. Meanwhile Orochimaru, the Otokage, fights the Third and kills him.

No, wait, the Third uses the same technique the Fourth did to seal the Kyuubi and dies because of _that_. But why did he use it again?

… He critically injures Orochimaru? Wasn't that why Orochimaru goes after Tsunade? Because he can't heal himself? Something like that.

Anyway, after that Naruto and Jiraiya set out on a quest to find Tsunade. Many thing happen. It ends with Naruto learning the rasengan and Tsunade overcoming her fear of blood and returning to become the Fifth Hokage.

Also, Tsunade has to heal Sasuke. Because Itachi mind raped him.

I tried to make out the Baby. Failed. But I did continue to feel his hand clutch mine. The cognitive dissonance between Itachi Uchiha, Naruto character, and Uchiha Itachi, the Baby, continued to grow.

Right. Where was I?

After Tsunade becomes the Fifth Hokage Sasuke defects to Orochimaru because he's a traumatized idiot. Most of the Rookie Nine go after him yet Sasuke manages to get away. But not before punching Naruto through the heart. Literally.

So Sasuke goes to Orochimaru, Sakura to Tsunade and Naruto disappears with Jiraiya for a three year long training trip. Cue time skip.

And then.

…

Here things got tricky.

I'd stopped reading the manga not too long after this point. I'd gotten too annoyed at Naruto's childishness and deus ex machina powers to continue. I still remember reading about Gaara's abduction, but after that? All my further knowledge came from fanfics, sporadic chapters that looked interesting and wiki-walks.

Focus. What happened next?

Naruto returns and has a pretty hilarious fight, with him and Sakura versus Kakashi. They get the news Akatsuki kidnapped Gaara and go after them.

No, that's not right. First they hear news about Sasuke and team Seven sets out immediately, because of course the time skip would start by having Team Seven reunite. Oh! And Sai joins as well. Eventually they find Sasuke, with him wearing one of the most _ridiculous_ outfits ever, and...

Something, something, ending with team Seven returning to Konoha without Sasuke. _Then_ they get the news Gaara, the by now Kazekage, has been kidnapped. They go after him.

Sakura gets a very rare fight scene with creepy yet so very cool Sasori. Naruto and Kakashi fight Deidara. They eventually catch up with Gaara, but his bijuu has already been extracted so he's dead. Poor Gaara. Luckily the old woman who helped Sakura win her fight whips out a deus ex machina which brings Gaara back to life at the cost of her own.

And then...

Akatsuki captured the rest of the jinchuuriki? Or most of them? All except Naruto and... that rapper who's the holder of the Eight-Tails? Killer Bee! That's the name. And there was some kind of training trip? Another rasengan probably.

Wait! _Sage-mode!_ That's what the training was all about. Didn't Naruto learn that one through another deus ex machina as well? Yes, he does. I remember looking up that chapter and seeing him jump in that pond of oil. On purpose. After _explicitly_ being told it's lethal in about 99,99 percent of the time. But does he care? Of course not. If your name is Naruto Uzumaki you know the plot armor will save you.

Concentrate. Don't get distracted.

Because Naruto is hidden away the leader of Akatsuki, Pain, invades Konoha to get to Naruto. All so he can make his dream of world peace come true by creating a nuclear deterrent. Didn't Jiraiya die before this happened? Pain killed him, of that I was sure, but was it before or after the invasion?

Before. I think it was before.

So Pain, all six of him, attacks Konoha and completely curb-stomps everyone in his way with his overpowered Rinnegan. Until Naruto shows up and kicks his ass right back. Eventually. Wasn't that the battle where Naruto turned into his six-tailed form? Or was it eight-tailed? Yes, it was. Because he does that after Hinata gives him a beautiful, heartwarming confession and then she gets smashed to a pulp by Pain. Naruto starts his roaring rampage of revenge.

And because this is Naruto it ends with him showing Pain the power of friendship by beating it into him. Pain then pulls out another deus ex machina to turn all the people he killed back to life and finds redemption in death. Konoha is saved.

Then...

Something, something, Itachi and Sasuke fight, something, something, and Kabuto invades the world with an army of zombies. Or was it an army of Zetsu's? Both? And when did Sasuke kill Orochimaru again? I couldn't quite remember that part. I do remember very vaguely that Kabuto revives all the Akatsuki members. Damnit, I should've looked up what happened to Itachi. Because didn't he get revived as well? Temporarily?

And the Hokages too? No, that came later. I think? Didn't the Kages of the other villages get revived as well? Or was that a fanfic? _I don't know!_

Okay, calm down. For now I would stick to the things I did know.

In response to Kabuto's threat all the Hidden Villages band together to form an epic army and go to war. Many awesome battles take place. Kabuto gets defeated. Somehow. And at some point in time the characters learn about Madara, which is Tobi's real identity, and his insane Moon Eye Plan. Except it turns out Tobi isn't Madara but Obito, who somehow managed to survive being crushed by rocks.

Obito becomes the next big bad. Except the real Madara wasn't really dead? Or hadn't been for long? Or did he come back to life as well?

…

Anyway. Obito wants to combine the bijuu into their original ten-tailed form and use the thing to power his Utopian illusions and rule the world. Naruto and Sasuke fight him. Together with Sakura? Probably.

Except it turns out that somehow _Zetsu_ was the mastermind behind it all and he's been trying for ages to revive an insane goddess. Through _yet another_ deus ex machina she returns back to life and becomes the series final boss. I still remember that picture of her with those spooky eyes.

The Naruto Wiki, my best friend when I had no idea what the hell a fanfic was talking about.

Which is how I knew the finale has that crazy, creepy and massively overpowered goddess fight Naruto and Sasuke like a complete idiot. And through a final deus ex machina they both become powerful enough to defeat her. Something to do with the Sage of Six Paths and reincarnation.

… That one actually sounds a lot more plausible now.

In the final chapter – which I'd actually read. It was the final Naruto chapter, how could I resist? – Naruto and Sasuke are both married, SasuSaku and NaruHina respectively and everyone else paired up as well. They all created mini-clones, also known as the next generation. Kakashi had become the Sixth Hokage and even his face on the Hokage Rock was masked, because it's Kakashi. Then Naruto takes over as the Seventh Hokage. The end.

Now. What do I do with all this knowledge?

That was a very difficult question. For several reasons. But one of the most important was; _should_ I change anything? Aside from the Uchiha Massacre of course, _that_ I would try to prevent, no matter what.

But the rest? This world was a manga, aimed at young boys. It was literally guaranteed to have a happy end. For any named character anyway.

If I changed things, would I make it worse? _Could_ I even change things? My very existence pointed towards yes, but what if I was wrong? What if fate actually existed and made it so that no matter what I tried everything would happen the way it's supposed to?

On one hand, that would mean I didn't have to worry, because I couldn't change the future. On the other hand it would mean _I couldn't change the future_. Including the Uchiha Massacre.

No. I couldn't think like that. If I started down that road it would be too easy to give up. To accept we're all ruled by destiny and have no choice in whatever happens to us.

I would become a Neji. My desire to become that whiny was lower then absolute zero. Even if my past actions didn't exactly reflect that.

For my sanity's sake I chose to believe it was possible the change the future. The question on whether I should still remained. And it wasn't something I was just going to be able to answer tonight. Or tomorrow. Or even a year from now. It was such a huge decision it deserved, no, _demanded_ to be studied from every angle.

Because no matter what I chose to do, it would require absolute certainty. Once I went down whatever path I decided on I would have to bear the consequences, no matter what.

I didn't know if I could.

For the first time I felt grateful I was a baby. It gave me the time I needed to reflect on this. After all, it's a little hard to do _anything_ when I hadn't even figured out how to crawl yet.

 

\---

 

Surprisingly enough this profound revelation changed very little in my life.

I now knew the Man and Woman were Itachi's and Sasuke's parents and could vaguely recall Itachi being his father's favorite and Sasuke being desperate for his father's attention and approval. But that was rather hard to remember as I watched the Man hide next to our crib and play peek-a-boo with us, made even more hilarious by his stoic face.

Both the Man and Woman were excellent parents, objectively speaking. They gave us overwhelming love and affection, and while I'd noticed they didn't exactly show exuberant expressions, not like Red did, their love shone through in every one of their actions.

The manga never showed them to be so _human_.

But other then that realization? Nothing changed. In fact, the most interesting thing that happened afterwards was that I learned to roll.

I hadn't really figured out how to coordinate all my limbs together yet, so crawling seemed to be out of my reach. Ironically enough I suspected I was having more trouble then a normal baby would because I could still remember a time my body had obeyed my every command. But I had figured out how to roll to my stomach and back.

So of course the logical progression was for me move around by rolling across the floor. It was _fun_. Especially because Itachi figured out how to do the same almost immediately after, just by watching me. Both of us chasing each other across the floor was hilarious. And dizzying.

And because my twin was Uchiha Itachi, he made the leap to crawling not two days later. I couldn't exactly let him upstage me, now could I? So I spend the next two weeks forcing my body to learn the same movements as him. I'm still surprised he kept me company while I did this instead of using his new ability to leave me behind.

Because once I finally managed to crawl I realized it was the most brilliant decision I'd yet to make. I hadn't realized what _freedom_ crawling would give. My life had been limited to our room and wherever the caretakers decided to take us. But now we could _explore_.

Down the hallways, into the bathroom, the caretaker's room, the kitchen, the dining room, the living room, the office, the gardens. It had the same impact as when I started seeing again. It was fantastic.

It also became abundantly clear our caretakers were _not_ normal humans. They were ninja's. Because no matter where Itachi and I went, no matter how hard we tried to hide, sneak or keep quiet, the Man and Woman always found us. It also explained why they let us explore on our own like this. Not only was their entire house ridiculously baby-proof, but they seemed constantly aware of our location and I think even of our very actions. It was amazing. And comforting as well. It was nice to feel safe no matter where we went.

Even the newfound agony that is teething didn't stop me and Itachi from studying every nook and cranny of our house. Though I learned very quickly how to keep my chilled chewtoy steady in my mouth as we moved about. Thank God the pain only lasted about a week. Also, I was now the proud owner of two whole teeth.

I still had random moments where I simply stopped moving and had to take a second to appreciate the fact I was now living in a fictional world, but other then that life went on. I knew the future would be rough, but right here, right now, I was happy. That was enough.

The fact we were soon introduced to solid food was simply the icing on the cake.


	6. Understanding The Uchiha

It was a beautiful day and I was perfectly content with lying down the porch and enjoying the sunlight. Admittedly it was a little cold, normal for this time a year – I think – Luckily I was bundled up enough it didn't bother me. Itachi however didn't seem to want to sit still, but kept his explorations limited to the general area. The Woman sat next to me, reading a book while keeping an invisible eye on my twin as he roamed the room behind us. Life was good.

Itachi apparently grew bored and crawled back, pulling at my sleeve to get some attention. I turned towards him lazily. He stared back unimpressed. I smiled.

I wasn't about to move just because he demanded it. His pout let me know he understood that as well. Somehow he managed to look down his nose at me, even though as a baby I really don't think he should've been able to do that. But there you go.

"Ana!" I blinked, frowned.

While as of late Itachi had started babbling more and more, I was still a little startled every time he did. Mostly because I was very quiet myself. It was incredibly frustrating to try to make the sounds I knew I could and fail. And while in the early days I'd practiced constantly, there had never seemed to be any progress. After a while the need to try had disappeared.

Except for singing of course. Which I somehow seemed to be getting worse at.

"Ana!" Itachi repeated, very loudly while staring at me.

I heard the Woman suck in a sharp breath behind me but kept my attention on my twin. Itachi pulled at my sleeve again, more insistently.

"Ana!" Seriously, what was he doing?

My curiosity was peeked enough to get me to sit upright. Itachi smiled.

"Ana!" He tugged my sleeve again, wanting me to play. But why was he –

No. Way.

"Ana!"

My heart clenched. I couldn't have stopped the wide, silly grin I felt growing even if I'd wanted to. Because Itachi had said his first word. And it was _my name_.

Ana. Hanako.

I was stunned in the best way possible, feelings overflowing. Every time I thought I couldn't love this babe any more then I already did he went and proved me wrong.

This monumental gift demanded a response. For the first in a very long time I tried to get my mouth to move the way I wanted it to. It was an incredible challenge, my tongue thick and clumsy and my lack of teeth limiting my capacity even more. But I couldn't just let this go unanswered.

"Iiisswaawsii." Well, that was horrible. I frowned, closed my eyes to focus on the feel of my tongue, on the way I knew the letters should be formed.

"Issaa. Isdaa. Idaa. Itaawssii. Awssi. Assssi." Apperently the ch-sound was still out of my reach. I opened my eyes and looked at my twin.

"Ita." Still a little wobbly, but good enough. Itachi cocked his head, apparently confused by my uncharacteristic babbling. It made me laugh.

"Ita." I repeated and tugged at his own sleeve in return. I could practically see the light bulb flash above his head.

"Ita." I said with another tug. His answering giggles were music to my ears.

"Ana!" He squeaked back, smile wide, his two solitary teeth peeking out so cutely. I could feel my own grin grow even larger in response.

"Ita!"

"Ana!"

"Ita!"

"Ana!"

"ITA!"

"ANA!"

This was so unbelievably adorable. I couldn't hold it in any longer and fell back to the floor, eyes closed and body shaking from laughter and happiness. Itachi burst in even louder giggles as well.

I loved that babe so much.

Opening my eyes I saw the Woman looking down at us. And felt my own eyes go wide. Because instead of normal obsidian pools I gazed into bottomless ruby red, three black dots spinning slowly. The Sharingan. _So pretty._ The thought came out dazed because _this was the Sharingan_. In _real life!_

But I almost immediately realized my mistake. They weren't pretty. They were beautiful, gorgeous, stunning, breathtaking and every other synonym I could think of. The red was so pure I would never have believed it could exist. Yet seeing it – _in real life!_ – it was impossible to ever believe them anything but natural. The color was too vivid, too vibrant for that. Too alive.

Contacts had _nothing_ on the real deal. It was like taking a crystal and saying it looked like diamond. Incomparable. I was utterly mesmerized. Even Itachi's continuing mirth couldn't regain my attention.

But why was she using it? We were only sitting outside. What possible reason could she have –

Because everything the Sharingan sees you can recall with perfect clarity forever. And she was using it to record our first words. My mind was blown.

This... this was genius! No wonder there were so few pictures in our house. Who needed them when you could take a mental one whenever you wanted to?

Had she done this before? Had the Man? They must've. How many times? How did I not notice? Okay, that last one was a stupid question. I had most likely not been paying attention.

But still, who would've ever thought the Uchiha used their prized bloodline limit for something as mundane as taking pictures?

 

\---

 

After that incredibly huge and important event, for several reasons obviously, the language came easier to me. Mostly because I was now actively trying to learn. Itachi of course seemed to soak up new words after he made that first leap. My own progress was much more spotty.

But then, language is a very strange thing when you think about it.

At it's bare essence it's nothing more then people giving meaning to random syllables. The color green is green because I've learned that's what it means. If I'd learned the word orange for that particular shade it wouldn't suddenly change the color. Only the word.

Language is a code, and each one differed from one another. So the trick to learning a new one was deciphering that code in relation to your own.

Maybe that's why I felt like I was having so much trouble. After all, I already knew a language and my every thought was formed by it. Unlike Itachi I didn't have to build from the ground up. Yet this only meant he had the advantage. I had to translate. He didn't.

Or it could simply be because I was a baby with a much less developed brain then I was used to. It wasn't that important. I was learning the language and that was enough, no matter how I did it.

Sometimes I made bizarre jumps of logic, unexplainable but no less true, making me suddenly understand the meaning behind words. Others I had to concentrate on deeply to decipher. Not an easy task. Things like the names of colors, objects and literal things were easy. Symbolical or metaphorical things were a lot more difficult. Don't even get me started on verbs and their conjugations.

But my vocabulary grew with leaps and bounds. Even if it was clumsy and often frustrating, I _was_ aware I was progressing at an amazing rate.

Not as fast as Itachi, but he's Itachi.

I had the least trouble with names because, well, they're names. I quickly learned the Woman was Okaa-san and the Man was Otou-san. But they were happy enough when Itachi and I mutilated those to Kaa and Tou.

Did I realize those words meant mother and father? Of course. Even without my sliver of Japanese knowledge – gathered from manga's and fanfics – I would've had to be a complete idiot to not understand what those terms meant. But in my mind they were simply names. Just as Woman and Man had eventually become.

No, I did not feel guilty about this. I definitely, emphatically did not.

And I certainly did not feel that way simply because the first time I called the Man 'Tou' he _shone_. He didn't change his expression, face blank and stoic as per usual. Yet every inch of him radiated love and pride. Not to mention his spinning Sharingan as I repeated the word made it clear this was a big deal for him.

He picked me up and cradled me like I was the most precious thing in the world.

Nope, I didn't feel guilty about not thinking of him as my dad at all.

In some ways I was awful at lying to myself. In others I had the impression I'd gotten a lot better. That was probably something I should look into. Eventually.

But that incident also made me realize something incredibly obvious. Something I had known, but hadn't really thought through.

He was not my father. _But I was his daughter._

It was strange to suddenly understand what that meant.

 

\---

 

Time passed. The temperatures became warmer, the days longer. Green started to crawl back across the landscape, flowers blooming and filling the air with wonderful scents. Itachi and I kept on improving, both in our ability to speak and our ability to move. No walking, not yet, but we became quicker, quieter, better at sneaking around. Or it seemed that way. Tou and Kaa humored the illusion at least.

We each went through two more rounds of constant agony when our next teeth decided to visit. The chilled rings made their reappearance. Kaa slowly introduced us to a greater variety of solid food in addition to our milk.

The day I was giving a soft cookie-like thing was one of the most beautiful moments of my life. God, I had _missed_ the taste of junk food. I savored every piece. And tried to ignore Itachi's puppy eyes when he finished his own cookie before mine. Failed.

I didn't think about the future. Not much. Sometimes I couldn't help it, my face brutally shoved into the facts and forced to confront them. Like the day I learned Red's real name.

Uzumaki Kushina. _Naruto's mother._

That was an incredible harsh blow. Because I completely adored this woman. And she was going to die.

I tried very hard not to think about that whenever I saw her. I think it helped a little I didn't know what exactly would happen that night. Only that Kushina would go into labor, get attacked by Tobi and somehow the Kyuubi would be ripped out of her.

And then she would die.

Knowing this, even without the details, made it difficult to be in her presence. The knowledge was aways there, lurking at the back of my mind. Every time I saw her I couldn't help but wonder what I should do, what I should change. I had no idea what I _could_ do. Even worse, part of me wasn't sure whether I should. If I managed to prevent this one thing, it would turn all my future knowledge useless. That was even more frightening than the fear I would be unable to change anything.

Yet at the same time my conscience _screamed_ at me every time I even thought about simply letting this happen. So obviously I did my very best not to think about it. Being a baby _definitely_ helped with that. It made it difficult for me to have such deep, complex thoughts for long. It was easy to distract myself, even if part of me was always aware of the future. The truth was my most powerful shield.

And besides, I still had time. After all, Itachi was about five years older then Sasuke and I remembered Itachi looked after his little brother the night of the Kyuubi attack. So I would, at the bare minimum, still have about three years.

So I did my best to enjoy all the moments I spend in her presence. And the longer that went on, the easier it became. Which was good as she came by every few days, or we went to her place. On one surreal occasion we also met a beautiful blond man at her home.

Namikaze Minato. Naruto's father. _The Fourth Hokage_. Complete fangirl moment.

I spend the entire visit tugging at his hair, because I swear it looked like spun gold. And it was _so soft._ Which made the sight of it sticking up all over the place even funnier.

Minato - _the Yellow Flash!_ - let me play with his hair the entire time. I did not think about him dying, not at all. Instead I pondered that if you combined both Kushina's and Minato's haircolor you really would get a bright orange. Probably the same shade as Kushina's monster couch. Naruto would clearly inherit his love for that particular color because of genes, not any metaphysical message the author wanted to send.

Minato wasn't around that often, but Kushina was a pretty permanent fixture in our lives. Except for those times we didn't see her for weeks on end. Gone away on missions I suppose.

Luckily there were many other people to keep me and Itachi occupied. Maybe it was because we were older now, but we were taken out on even more walks and much longer ones as well. Kaa had no problem with us napping in slings.

We'd done that before of course, both the sleeping and strolling around, but now we didn't simply walk the streets but visited other people's homes.

Kaa was always welcome wherever we went and seemed to know everyone personally. As my vocabulary grew I managed to pick up enough to realize she was checking in on the Uchiha's. Every single one of them.

Including Uchiha Obito. That had been an even bigger shock then Kushina and Minato had been.

I had stared at a kid with too big and too bright orange – _again with that same color_ – goggles, sitting proudly atop messy hair. This was Kakashi's teammate. The one who gave him his Sharingan, who gave up _his life_ to save his precious people. The person responsible for the Fourth Shinobi World War.

And he was puffing his cheeks at me and Itachi in order to make us laugh, more exuberant and expressive than any Uchiha I'd yet to meet.

He couldn't have been more then ten.

Not thinking about it. _Not yet._

Instead I marveled at how much Kaa seemed to do. She was a housewife, but apparently that meant something completely different from what I'd always imagined. And somehow she was managing this full time job of socializing without ever making me or Itachi feel ignored.

It's funny how shocked I was when I first realized why she was making these rounds. It seemed so mundane, even beneath her station, seeing as she was practically nobility. Yet at the same time it made so much sense. She was the wife of the leader of the Uchiha Clan. These were her people.

It's just I'd never expected the Uchiha to be so close to one another. Which was stupid, if the _entire_ Clan was planning a coup it would be ridiculous if they weren't. The manga had always portrayed them as a very cold, uptight and arrogant group though. I was beginning to realize how incredibly wrong that perception was.

It's odd, I came from a very tight family myself. Some of my fondest memories were of the family gatherings we used to have. My parents, brother, aunts, uncles, grandparents and cousins all together. Birthdays, holidays, even random lunches, any excuse was enough to get at least a few of us together. I had always considered my family exceptionally close, especially in comparison to some of my friends.

Compared to the Uchiha we weren't. We really weren't.

Because Kaa didn't just visit each Uchiha and listen to their problems. They started coming by our house constantly as well. Or maybe they'd always been doing so, but now that Itachi and I could crawl we actually encountered them. Who knew what Kaa and Tou were up to when they weren't with us after all.

Kohaku, Yuki, Sanosuke, Asami, Daisuke. The list went on and on. And every single one of them treated Itachi and me like we were their most favorite little cousins ever. Not with expressions, because the manga was right in that Uchiha's didn't really smile or laugh out loud a lot. No, they were all calm, collected and dignified.

Yet there was so much warmth in their every action.

It was in Asami's soft pats on the head. Daisuke's acceptance of Itachi slobbering all over his sleeve. Kohaku's careful hands picking me up. Yuki's fingers pulling at Itachi's tunic whenever he wasn't looking. Sanosuke's deliberate ignorance when we tried to sneak up on him.

The Uchiha _loved_. With a quiet intensity that was so much more powerful then any wild affection ever could be.

The more time passed, the more I understood that. And the more I loved them in return.

How could I ever let these people die?

 

\---

 

In general, it was incredibly hard for me to keep track of time.

Understandable since I not only slept a truly ridiculous amount, needing naps throughout the day in addition to sleeping in fits during the night – babies don't learn to slumber through the entire night, we just get better at going back to sleep – but also because for who knows how long I had been blind. I honestly had no idea at what age infants started to see.

So while I was aware many months had passed since I first found myself here, I couldn't for the life of me say how old I was. The knowledge was impossible to determine.

Until now.

Sitting between Kaa and Tou, Itachi at my side, I stared.

There was cake in front of me. With a candle. Because It was my and Itachi's birthday.

I sniffled.

Birthdays had always been a Big Thing in my family. We'd decorated our house with silly ornaments, put all the previously hidden presents on the table and first thing in the morning we'd sing 'Happy Birthday' way too loud for the lucky person. These were some of my most cherished memories. I couldn't recall a time we hadn't done this. And part of me had expected I would never experience something like it ever again.

Yet here I was. Celebrating my birthday.

There were no silly decorations, no presents, no horribly sung birthdays songs. But there was cake. Ornate, beautifully decorated cake made specifically for me and my twin. To celebrate our birth. Because we were their children.

I looked up at the people who had given birth to me. Who had done all this and so much more for us. For me.

They looked down, both their dark eyes so full of love. My emotions made me want to tear up, but I ruthlessly suppressed it. Didn't want them to worry.

Because I was _happy_. In a way I hadn't thought possible anymore. My mom, dad and brother were all gone. But looking at Kaa, Tou and Itachi I didn't feel alone. Because I wasn't.

The feelings burning inside me were stronger than mere affection. More even then simple love.

"Mother." I whispered the word, and for the first time it was not a name. She smiled at me.

"Father." I tugged at his sleeve and his hand stroked my head.

I closed me eyes, overwhelmed. These were my parents. Not my mom and dad, no. But mother and father nonetheless.

I tightened my hold on Itachi's hand.

My mother and father and twin. My family. I loved them.


	7. Interlude - Parenting 101

**Ground Zero**

Uchiha Mikoto screamed. She sobbed as another contraction hit, arched her back and hoped she _crushed her miserable husband's hand,_ it was all his fault there were _two!_

She shrieked.

"Almost there Mikoto-sama, the head is showing. Just a few more pushes." Mikoto was going to claw that medic's eyes out. _A few more._ As if –

Her back arched clean off the bed.

She was going to _castrate_ her husband with rusty kunai! Disembowel him with _chopsticks_ , sharpen carrots until they _bled_ and _shove them up his_ –

Mikoto wailed. Ancestors preserve her, she should've taken the painkillers. But no, she had to have a _natural_ birth, a true Uchiha birth. _The Uchiha could go and_ –

Agony hit again and she sobbed. Great Ancestors, let it be over, let it be done.

Mikoto forced another deep breath and _pushed_.

Crying broke through, different from her own.

"It's a boy." A son. She had a son.

Another spasm raced through her. The mission wasn't over, not yet, there was still –

She screamed as she was hit by the most powerful contraction yet. She had to be strong, she was an Uchiha, a jounin of Konoha and _she could do this_. She was getting through this and then _she was going to skin her husband alive!_ Cut off his fingers one by one, pluck out his eyes and make him _choke_ on them!

She was never doing this again. _Never_.

Another wave of pain racked her body, muscles tenser then they'd ever been. _The beauty of birth_ she thought, only a little hysterically.

"One more push Mikoto-sama. Deep breaths, focus, it's almost over." Mikoto was going to rip the medic's tongue out.

Sobbing, she grit her teeth against the torment, took another deep breath and _pushed_.

Crying filled the air, high and wonderful.

"A daughter." The barely heard whisper wasn't from the medic.

She had a daughter.

Pain pushed away any other emotion she should've felt. Instead she wailed as she felt the aftershocks, her body demanding she finish this, see it through. Mikoto had no choice but to obey.

And when it was finally done, when at last she could _breathe_ , she slowly released the crushing grip she'd kept on her husbands hand this entire time. Mikoto looked up and felt her heart skip a beat.

There he was, her beloved husband. Fugaku, awed in a way she had never seen before, not even on their wedding day. He was looking down at a small bundled up babe, sheltered safely in the crook his arm. Mikoto's breath hitched.

Her husband looked up then, his normally stoic countenance shattered, Sharingan spinning madly, the emotions aimed her way stealing her heart all over again.

"Uchiha Itachi." It was a whisper, a prayer, their every hope and dream. Mikoto felt tears fall, didn't care about the impropriety of it.

"Itachi." She repeated. Their son.

She twitched, tried to find the strength to sit up, needing to hold him. Her wonderful husband understood as always. Gently he helped her upright, not showing any discomfort at the visibly broken bones his mangled hand now possessed. And then, with the utmost care, he handed over their baby. Mikoto looked at screwed shut eyes, a scrunched up little nose, high pitched wails escaping her son. She smiled. He was perfect.

"Fugaku-sama." It was not the address that made her look up.

Kohaku approached them respectfully, another small and wildly screaming bundle wrapped inside his arms. Fugaku did not wait. Instantly he was in front the medic, taking over his burden like the most precious thing it was.

Kohaku bowed and moved towards her, diagnostic jutsu already being prepared. Mikoto ignored him. Her son had quieted down, only sniffles escaping and she could not be distracted. Her eyes kept flitting from her son to her daughter, unable to decide between them.

Fugaku settled next to her on the bed, body warm and solid. His eyes never left the small treasure held inside his embrace so delicately.

"Uchiha Hanako." At her whisper he looked up. He was crying, her strong husband who'd never before shed a tear, not in all the years she'd known him.

"Hanako." He echoed, voice breaking. Then carefully, so very carefully, he handed over their daughter. Mikoto shifted, ignored the tremors still running through her, the medic examining her, and instead laid that small, perfect wonder on her chest as well. Right above her heart. Her daughter hiccuped, quieted down, eyes no more then barely opened slits.

They were _perfect_. Mikoto activated her Sharingan, ignored the protests her body screamed at her. It didn't matter, she wanted to capture this moment for eternity.

Her babies. Her children. Her son and daughter. Itachi and Hanako.

Mikoto would burn down the world to keep them safe.

 

**\---**

 

**Week Three**

"There is nothing wrong with her Fugaku-sama, she is a strong, healthy babe."

Uchiha Fugaku did not change his expression. He held the medic's eyes until she twitched and looked down briefly. But she recovered immediately, shoulders held back, chin stubbornly high.

"Sometimes babies need a longer period of adjustment. Especially twins. Not only are they confused by their activated chakra system, but also at the loss of their previously shared one. This can result in a greater longing for familiarity and comfort. Which is why she only seems to calm when you or your wife hold her."

Fugaku kept his gaze steady, posture straight. Then he arched a single brow and looked down at his softly sobbing daughter, held close to his heart. The medic winced.

"Some babies have more trouble then others." She said resolutely, only a slight waver detectable.

Fugaku could only admire her professionalism. He knew it was not easy to bear the full weight of his stare – purposely amplified by a touch of chakra – and her confidence in her own judgment helped sooth his own doubts.

It did not satisfy the howling beast that clawed at his chest every time his daughter began to cry.

"Then what do you suggest we should do, Tomoe?" It came out a demand. It was a desperate plea.

Her eyes softened.

"Simply continue what you have been doing. Be her parents. This is only a stage, she'll grow out of it soon."

"How soon?" Because it had been _weeks_.

"I can't say, it's different for each child. But it will pass. It may take weeks, even months in some exceptional cases, but it will pass."

Months. He could be forced to see his daughter in pain for _months_. Fugaku allowed himself a moment to close his eyes. Then he looked down.

His daughter's eyes were closed, small hands curled protectively in front of her. She wasn't sleeping, soft sniffles escaped her tiny mouth instead, tears slipping from under her lashes.

She cried so much.

Fugaku would do anything to see her smile.

 

**\---**

 

**Week Eight**

"Wake up!"

The hissed command was enough to snap Fugaku awake, every instinct on high alert. His hand palmed a shuriken, arm halfway up before he recognized his wife.

Mikoto, normally so composed, was hovering above him, eyes wide and hair in disarray.

"Follow me." And she disappeared, speeding down the hall, Fugaku but a step behind. Something was happening to the twins, it was the only thing that could put his wife in such a state. Fugaku's heart froze, making him strain his senses even as he pushed his body to the limit.

But it was neither enemies nor crying he detected. Instead, when they reached the twin's already opened room Mikoto held out an arm, stopping him from entering.

Fugaku scanned the area instantly, searching for any disturbance, darkness no obstacle to his Sharingan. For one panicked moment he wondered what was wrong, where the danger was. But there was nothing.

The twins were lying in bed, facing each other.

His children were safe. The ice that gripped his heart thawed. Itachi was quiet, only half awake as he stared at his sister, his breath deepening with each pull.

And Hanako was... squeaking. Not crying as usual, no soft sobs escaping.

The squeaks had rhythm though. They changed in volume and tone and had a very deliberate feel to them. Wat was his daughter doing?

And was this why his wife had woken him? To listen to a squeaky song –

_Hanako was singing to her brother._

Fugaku's breath escaped him, choked up emotions gripping his throat instead. Mikoto's hand found his own, sharing his feelings. He knew if he were to look at her he would see her own Sharingan spinning, capturing this moment for eternity.

It was what Fugaku himself was doing after all.

 

**\---**

 

**Week Twelve**

_And we'd been doing so well._

Uchiha Mikoto allowed herself a small sigh.

"It's your turn wife." Her grumbling husband turned to his other side and pulled the blankets up, his awareness already fading now that he'd registered no threats were present. But she knew it would not be so easy.

Indeed, not even a moment later her son's wailing voice was joined by her daughter's. Fugaku groaned. Mikoto did not speak, simply pulled on her robe as she went to go check on their children. Her husband joined her just as she slid open the door, moonlight making the shadows under his eyes even more pronounced. She had little doubt her own were any better.

She'd never expected being a mother would be so exhausting. But even for jounin it was difficult to go months without a full night's rest.

"I'll take Itachi." She murmured, her husband's flickering gaze letting her know he'd heard. Quickly she crossed the room, embracing her son. The reason for his crying was immediately clear. He needed a change.

Mikoto went towards the bathroom as Fugaku picked up Hanako. His bleak expression told her this was no different from last time. Hanako's suddenly even louder screams confirmed it.

Mikoto resolutely did not stop.

She closed the screen behind her, walked the hallway and tried not to obsess over the sobbing she could still hear, humming to Itachi instead.

She laid down her son and quickly and efficiently changed him. Already he was only sniffling, soon he'd fall back to sleep. If his sister didn't keep him awake him of course.

She could still hear her daughter's high screams, unable to halt the flow of chakra to her ears. The compulsion to keep track of her children, to know they were safe, was impossible to resist. Even if that meant listening to her daughter's crying, her husband's muffled voice having no effect.

Mikoto lowered her head, touching Itachi's small nose. His eyes looked through her, still unable to focus.

"Your sister is a very difficult child." She confided him softly. She didn't blame Hanako, couldn't even if she tried. She was perfect just the way she was. But even Mikoto had to admit Itachi was so much _easier_.

He blinked back. She nodded solemnly.

"Exactly."

Perhaps it would be better to have Itachi sleep with her and Fugaku tonight. Though who knew how long her husband would be away. But the walls were thick enough her daughter's cries wouldn't reach her son.

She didn't like doing so, both her children seemed happier when they were together. But Itachi needed his sleep and these last few days Hanako had proven she could keep on crying for a very long time and at a very persistent volume. It hurt to see her daughter so upset for no reason.

Mikoto picked up her son, kissed the top of his head.

"It's just a phase, she grew out of it last time." She assured him _._

_Just a phase._

 

**\---**

 

**Week Sixteen**

There were carrots inside his dumplings. Uchiha Fugaku carefully put down his chopsticks and swallowed, throat suddenly too dry. Mikoto sat across the table, continuing to eat peacefully, expression calm and serene.

"Is something the matter, my wife?"

She took a small sip of water. Her lips curled into a breathtaking smile.

"Why would there be something the matter, my honored husband?"

Every hair on the back of his neck stood up. It was even worse then he'd feared.

"My prolonged absence from the Police Force has caused my workload to be exceptionally higher now that I have returned." Careful, this had to be handled delicately "I have missed our shared time together, my beloved wife. Duty is a heavy burden, yet one that must be endured."

"Of course. I would never dream of standing in the way of my honorable husband's duty." His hand twitched.

"I am blessed to have such an understanding wife." He replied, voice even.

Her answering smile was bright and somehow even more breathtaking.

"Fortune favors us however." He continued quickly, honed instincts screaming _danger, proceed with extreme caution._ "I have finally caught up on all issues caused by my previous absence. I will no longer be required to return as late as I have these past days."

Fugaku had, for one insanity filled moment, contemplated sleeping a night at his office instead of a few simple naps. But even he would not dare tempt Mikoto's wrath like that, already he was skirting the edge of what his wife was willing to allow. And apparently he'd hit the limit.

"That is wonderful news. I have missed you these last seven days, my honored husband." There was no particular emphasis on the number. It landed with the force of a well thrown kunai.

"I will endeavor to make it up to you, most beloved wife."

"That is unnecessary, honored husband. I have been well in your absence."

Of course.

"How were our children today?" Fugaku asked, smooth and casual, the part of him that was counting their sleeping breaths suddenly at the front of his mind. Mikoto took another sip of water, tranquil eyes never leaving his.

"Both Hanako and Itachi have been behaving no different than usual."

It took effort not to wince. But he was an Uchiha, Head of his Clan. He managed.

"I have not been able to spend much time with them lately."

"No. You have not." Mikoto raised a single brow. This time Fugaku felt his jaw twitch.

"I will make it up to them." His voice was still even, thank the Ancestors. Mikoto gave him another stunning smile.

"I am relieved to hear you say so, honored husband."

She returned to her dinner. Fugaku followed her example. His rice tasted like ash.

"Kushina has recently extended an invitation for me to visit her home and stay the night." The deliberate announcement would've startled him if he hadn't braced himself. Instead Fugaku met Mikoto's eyes again.

"She is a dear friend of yours." He told her and watched as she nodded gracefully.

"A very dear friend. If it would not inconvenience my honored husband, it would please me to accept this generous invitation." The threat was razor sharp. Fugaku was an intelligent man. He made the right choice.

"I only wish for my beloved wife's happiness. The precious gift of friendship must be nurtured and cherished."

"I thank you for your kind words, honored husband. I will let Kushina know I accept her invitation. I hope you will be able to endure my absence for so short a while." And as if nothing had happened Mikoto went back to finishing her dinner.

Fugaku allowed himself a very quiet sigh, no more then a slightly deeper exhale.

Crisis averted.

 

**\---**

 

**Week Twenty-one**

Uchiha Mikoto looked at her husband and embraced the fierce love that burned inside her.

Fugaku was standing above their chidren, bend at the waist to bring his head only just out of their unstable reach. This was the Head of the Uchiha Clan, the leader of the Konoha Military Police Force. Fire Shuriken Fugaku, one of the deadliest shinobi alive. And he was sticking out his tongue.

Her heart melted.

She kept still in the doorway, simply enjoying the wonderful picture of her husband making their children laugh. Itachi's shrieks were full of happiness, bright and cheerful. Hanako giggled, innocent and free. Her Sharingan made her savor each joyful sound, forever memorizing the exact way the sunlight illuminated her family.

Mikoto carefully captured this rare and precious gift. Right here, right now, life was perfect.

 

**\---**

 

**Week Twenty-five**

"Again, my apologies Kushina." The redhead waved her excuses away of course. Mikoto had expected nothing less.

"They're babies, it's normal."

Mikoto did not answer. She didn't speak of the desperate fear still winding up her spine every time Hanako began to cry, wondering if this time she wouldn't stop. Of feeling so _useless_ , no way to help, only able to watch as her daughter _hurt_.

No, Mikoto did not speak of that. But this was Kushina, her best friend. She didn't have to.

A gentle hand squeezed her shoulder, pulling her close, the redhead invading personal space as if it didn't even register. Mikoto knew that to Kushina it didn't.

"It's _normal_ Mikoto."

She managed a genuine smile back.

"We will come by another time soon." She promised. Hanako had probably just been tired, overwhelmed by her new surroundings. Her crying was a normal reaction, nothing to worry about.

Her daughter was fine.

 

**\---**

 

**Week Twenty-nine**

Mikoto wove through the festivities around her, on a mission to rescue her husband.

The twins were each securely held in one arm, their eyes still wide and bedazzled, trying to take in everything at once, even as they constantly yawned and fought against the sleep she could see was beckoning them. It was the perfect excuse.

She arrived and bowed. A very shallow one.

"My deepest apologies Hiashi-sama, but I am afraid I have need of my husband. Our children seem to have had enough excitement for one night and we truly should put them to bed." As if on cue Itachi let out another loud yawn.

Fugaku gave her a look of profound gratefulness, expression never changing. The heir to the Hyuuga Clan simply nodded his acceptance, his own stance relieved.

"Of course Mikoto, I shall leave you and your husband to it. It was a pleasure seeing you again Fugaku." The blatant lie was followed by the barest of nods before the man quickly extracted himself, disappearing among the crowd.

She couldn't stand that Clan. Fortunately the feeling was mutual, so all did their best to stay clear from one another. But it was unavoidable their paths crossed from time to time. And it would have been far worse should her husband have been seen snubbing the Hyuuga Clan heir during the New Years Celebrations. It was why Hiashi had not simply run away either.

"Let us return home, my wife." Fugaku said as he took over Hanako.

They started the long walk back to the compound, leaving behind the music and lights. It was a pity her children were too young to stay up late, she had a feeling her little singers would've enjoyed the bell ringing quite a lot.

"Such a shame we shall miss the ringing of the bell." Her husband said, echoing her thoughts.

Mikoto smiled.

"Indeed. Such a shame. And Itachi and Hanako who are so tired. However shall we celebrate this evening, my dear husband?"

Fugaku's eyes turned fierce.

Mikoto quickened her step, putting a little extra sway in her hips. Her husband's gaze burned hot on her back.

Their New Years would not be traditional, but that did not mean they couldn't still celebrate in a different way.

 

**\---**

 

**Week Thirty-four**

"Our children both said their first word today."

Uchiha Fugaku stared at his wife. Mischievousness shone from her eyes, her every movement full of joy. He had wondered what had put her in such a good mood, but this?

He put down his rice and chopsticks.

"What exactly happened, my wife?" The need to know burned.

She gave him a small, secretive smile.

"Itachi was first. He wanted Hanako to play with him and when she wouldn't he tried to persuade her. By saying her name."

Most of the time Fugaku adored the fact his wife could find so much pleasure in tormenting others. This was not one of those instances.

He held her gaze and didn't move. Her lips curled an inch more.

"Truly, the most surprising thing was not that he said his sister's name as such, but how quickly Hanako understood him. After all, Itachi is not yet capable of true articulation."

Fugaku clenched his jaw, just a little.

"Afterwards Hanako immediately attempted to say his own name back. She mutilated it quite spectacularly. A true accomplishment. But eventually she managed an approximation and even made it clear to her brother she meant his name. Our children are extraordinarily intelligent. We should be proud."

Somehow Mikoto had managed to relate the entire tale without ever telling him what exactly his children had said. Fugaku was not annoyed by that.

Instead he kept his face blank and mentally cursed Kaoru for getting sick today of all days and making him work at the Police Headquarters instead of at home. He had missed his children's first words while his wife had manage to capture the memory forever.

Fugaku was not jealous.

But he admitted to himself he very much wanted to know what exactly his children had said. Mikoto's happy tranquility only made the need grow higher. Which she knew of course.

Fortunately his wife loved him, so after long, agonizing moments spend in silence she finally released him from his torment.

"Itachi was adorable, he called his sister 'Ana'. Though it took me until the second time to understand what he was doing. Hanako's reaction was even more shocking, you know she does not speak a lot. Yet after Itachi called her name, she made a huge effort to pronounce his own. Her first attempt was... a little hard to understand." At this his wife's smile turned the slightest bit crooked. It was an expression he only ever saw when she was talking about their children. "Eventually she settled on the word 'Ita'. Itachi understood what she meant after only two attempts."

Fugaku was about to answer, but at that exact moment he heard his son waking, sleepy breaths beginning to speed up. If Itachi woke Hanako would soon as well.

"I will go check on the children." He said smoothly instead.

"What about your dinner, my husband?" It was incredible how innocent Mikoto could sound. Especially when Fugaku of all people knew his wife was anything but.

"Do not worry, my wife, I will return shortly." And with that he quickly stood and ignored the laughter dancing in Mikoto's eyes.

He had not seen his children all day. It was completely normal to wish to spend time with them. And if he was hoping they would repeat their newfound ability to speak so he could capture it as well, then that was no one's business but his own.

 

**\---**

 

**Week Thirty-nine**

"Thank you for coming to my humble abode, Mikoto-sama."

"It is my pleasure Rukia."

Uchiha Mikoto smiled at the old woman sitting in front of her. Uchiha Rukia was one of the strongest people she knew and every part of her radiated a quiet confidence in herself and her abilities. Mikoto hoped she would someday be able to do the same.

"And I see your children are enjoying their newfound freedom as well." Mikoto chuckled at her wry tone.

As the mother of five Rukia was far more experienced then Mikoto herself and it showed. The room they had been taken too was carefully prepared, all sharp and dangerous objects put out of her children's curious reach.

They did not seem to mind, more interested in crawling under the kotatsu and exploring the warmth found there, heating seals no danger to her two little explorers.

"It has been a challenge." Mikoto told the old woman. Rukia quirked a small grin back.

"If you think them challenging now you must prepare yourself for when they finally figure out how to walk. And climb."

Rukia stroked the little foot sticking out the blanket, the limb disappearing amidst muffled giggles.

Mikoto felt her smile deepen.

"I thank you for your wise words." She put down the excellent jasmine tea she had been given. "And how are your own children, Rukia?"

The old woman glowed.

"Well. Very well. My youngest, Toushiro, has had some trouble with his newborn, but nothing any other parent has not been through. Though from the way he talks you would think my grandson went out of his way to make his father's life as difficult as possible on purpose."

"I believe I have heard some of that. Didn't little Tamaki throw up all over him recently?"

If Rukia were anyone but an Uchiha, Mikoto knew she would've cackled. Instead her eyes twinkled.

"Indeed. His wife Kagome was not impressed. Had he simply waited until she'd finished feeding him it would not have happened."

Mikoto chuckled again, tapping Itachi's nose when he peeked out from under the blanket. Her son retreated immediately, laughing.

"It is a mistake one only makes once." Mikoto said and watched as Rukia nodded sagely.

"Nanaki was the same. He used to take such offense at every little failure." Her tone turned wistful and Mikoto took another sip of tea as Rukia visibly pulled herself together again.

Mikoto could only admire her strength. She knew if Fugaku were to ever die before her she would break. If that were to happen only her children would be enough to keep her going.

Mikoto prayed with all her heart she would never live to see that happen.

 

**\---**

 

**Week Forty-three**

"Mikoto, my children and I will all attend the funeral of course." Uchiha Fugaku kept his tone calm and even.

In response Uchiha Sora gave him a small nod, his eyes grateful.

"Thank you Fugaku-sama. My wife always spoke highly of you. She would have appreciated this."

"It is my honor. Kanae was a gifted kunoichi, her encryptions were some of the finest I have ever seen. Konoha is lesser for her loss." He meant every word.

As the Head of his Clan it was his duty to make sure he knew every one of his people. While he did not have the time to check up on them the way his wife did, he kept himself up to date on every major event they went through.

And when the worst happened it was his duty to make sure their loved ones were taken care of.

 

**\---**

 

**Week Forty-seven**

Fugaku did not look up. He kept his eyes on the report in front of him, read about the difficulties Section 3 was having with their maintenance seals and did not lift his head towards the two quietly approaching shadows.

He turned a page. The shadows stopped. Watched. Waited. And when it became apparent he would not move again they continued prowling closer.

Fugaku did not smile victoriously.

Closer. Closer.

Fugaku swooped down, plucked up his two surprised children and effortlessly deposited them across his desk, his report pushed aside in the same smooth movement.

Their laughter brightened the world.

 

**\---**

 

**One year**

Uchiha Mikoto looked at her children's awe and felt deeply satisfied.

She had spend hours working on their present, had decorated it as delicately as she could. Their wide eyed wonder made every minute worth it.

The fact she'd had to constantly chase her husband out of the kitchen throughout the day or risk loosing all the frosting was only an added bonus.

It was a magnificent cake.

A hiccup interrupted the moment and she looked at Hanako in worry. But her daughter didn't cry, only looked up with big eyes. As if she understood exactly why they were having this party.

"Mother." The abridged word was spoken softly, lovingly, and Mikoto couldn't stop her smile from growing even if she'd wanted to.

Her daughter turned towards Fugaku, face serious yet so happy as well. A true Uchiha.

"Father."

Her husband carefully stroked the top of her head, his own eyes soft.

Hanako clutched her brother's hand and Itachi smiled, cuddling closer to his sister.

This was Mikoto's family. She loved them.


	8. Living In A Hidden Village

I was not impressed. Neither was Itachi.

The both of us kept our faces blank while we stared at the lone kunai sticking out the tree. As we looked on it tumbled to the ground, perfectly punctuating this complete fail.

Granted, it had been thrown with enough force to succeed in penetrating the tough bark. It could've been impressive. If Akihito had actually been aiming for that tree instead of the target standing more then a meter to the right.

Itachi turned his head in time with me. We each raised a brow.

Akihito's ears turned pink.

"I hit it yesterday." He said defensively. I snorted.

"But not today." Itachi's voice was dry as dust, the quip even funnier because it came from such an innocent looking four year old. I knew he was simply stating a fact, but that didn't change the way it sounded.

Akihito scowled.

"It's not like you could do better." He said petulantly and crossed his arms, eyes daring my twin to do just that.

Idiot.

Itachi walked forward, held out his hand. Akihito handed him a kunai.

Itachi had only ever used practice ones before, never real metal, even if these were blunted. In fact, mother had only started teaching us the basics of throwing them about a month ago, right after our birthday.

My twin stared at the knife thoughtfully, carefully testing the weight. He lookedup at the dummy, standing pretty far away actually. Then he flicked the kunai, blade hitting the target dead center.

I laughed out loud at Akihito's disgruntled look.

"That was a lucky shot." He said, pride obviously hurt.

Itachi was clearly contemplating throwing another one, because my twin was a little troll like that. But he was also kind, so he didn't.

"You should have rotated your wrist more, the force of your arm threw off your aim." He said instead.

I knew it was a genuine attempt to help. But Akihito was seven years old, so he only scowled harder.

"Whatever." He muttered.

I felt a little guilty, he'd been so excited to show off his new live weapons. But only a little.

"Can I try?" I asked him.

I could see the conflict in his eyes. On one hand, if I did better as well it would crush what little pride he had remaining. On the other hand, I wasn't nearly as good as my twin, so the chances of that happening were pretty low.

He handed me a kunai.

I tested the weight the same way Itachi had, the knife looking ridiculously huge in my small hands. It was a lot heavier – and larger – then I was used to, I'd have to take that in consideration. Not to mention the balance was different as well. Still, this couldn't be that difficult.

I relaxed, gripped the handle delicately the way I was taught, took careful aim and tried to remember to throw from my wrist instead of my arm. I let the kunai fly.

It went even wider then Akihito's had. I scowled. Akihito brightened.

I'd like to say I'd done that on purpose to spare his feelings. I hadn't. Holding out my hand again, I knew my expression was probably as petulant as Akihito's had been only moments ago.

"Another." I demanded. Akihito handed one over gleefully.

Turning towards my twin I silently demanded his help. Itachi walked forward, coming to stand behind me.

"Your elbow was too high, don't bend it so much." He told me as he guided my arm into the correct position. "You have to focus on your wrist, you used the arch of your forearm to make it fly faster."

Apparently I'd made the same mistake Akihito had. A seven year old child. I now understood exactly how he'd felt.

"Don't forget to throw as you exhale." Was the final advice my twin gave before stepping back.

I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. I concentrated.

I breathed in. I breathed out. The kunai flew. It clipped the dummy's shoulder.

Squealing I turned around and hugged Itachi.

"I did it!"

My twin gave a proud smile back.

"I knew you could." He said, voice completely sincere. It made my happiness even brighter.

Akihito let out a huff and I could practically hear his eyes roll.

"The wonder twins strike again." His tone was part jealous, part affectionate.

But honestly, if he'd just listen to Itachi's advice he'd be able to hit the target as well. Most likely.

Though I understood it had to be hard for him to be upstaged by someone so much younger. That would make it difficult for anyone to accept the help offered, let alone a little kid like him.

So I turned my head and very maturely stuck out my tongue.

I loved being a child again, it let me get away with _so much_.

"I can help you." Itachi offered again, because he was nice like that.

Akihito sighed, shoulders slumping in defeat.

"Sure." He finally agreed, his pride not so big as to turn to arrogance.

So we spent the rest of the afternoon practicing. Or rather, Akihito and I did, with Itachi patiently teaching us.

 

\---

 

When the sun started to lower my twin and I parted ways with Akihito and the two of us started the walk back home. Itachi hummed a song, his voice uncommonly rich and deep as always. It's funny how that still caught me by surprise sometimes.

We walked across the street, safe among our Clan.

Yet part of me wondered how long that would last. Because over the last year everything had slowly been getting... tenser.

It was in hurried walks, tight shoulders, absent smiles. My Clan was afraid, and it showed in their every action.

War had come to Konoha.

I'd forgotten that would happen for a long time. Or, not forgotten, but I hadn't really made the connection that if Kakashi's backstory was set during a war, it meant I would see it happen. That both Itachi and I would live through it. Were living it right now.

Though I didn't exactly understand _why_ we were at war, only understood against who.

I wove my fingers through Itachi's. He gave a small smile back, humming never stopping. It was very soothing. And it distracted me from focusing too much on the too empty street.

Lately it seemed as if more and more members of my family were sent away on long term missions. I hadn't been told that of course, but over the past year the constant stream of visitors at our house had notably shifted. While more people came by now, they were often gone for weeks at a time before they returned.

More and more often they never returned at all.

I focused on Itachi's voice.

As we arrived at our house my twin and I slipped off our shoes and stepped inside.

"I'm home." We chorused together and I greedily inhaled the delicious smell drifting through the air.

"Welcome back." Mother called from the kitchen.

Itachi and I made our way there. Mother was standing behind the stove, expertly flipping sizzling meat with one hand while her other cut vegetables, knife nothing but a blur moving faster then the naked eye could follow. Ninja cooking at it's finest.

Mother smiled at us.

"How was your afternoon with Akihito?" She asked.

"It was fun." I answered.

"We practiced throwing real, but still blunted kunai." My twin elaborated as he came to stand beside her. Mother's hand stopped it's rapid movements in order to stroke the top of his head.

"And how did you two do?" She asked.

"Itachi hit the center of the target on his first try!" I proudly exclaimed, always happy to brag about my twin.

Mother's eyes twinkled.

"Well done." She told Itachi and I saw him glow at the praise.

"Hanako hit the target adequately as well." He told mother, making me roll my eyes.

"Yeah sure, but only after you taught me."

"Hanako." Mother admonished and I sighed.

"Yes dear brother, but I was only able to accomplish this because of your excellent tutoring." I corrected, exaggerating my articulation only a little. Mother nodded. My parents and correct grammar, Serious Business.

"And how was your own afternoon, mother?" Itachi asked.

Her smile became brittle.

"It went well enough."

I winced.

Itachi looked at me uncertainly. We never knew how to deal with this, when mother became so sad.

"What are we having for dinner, mother?" I asked, blatantly trying to change the subject.

"Tonight I am making beef teriyaki. It will soon be finished, so go and wash your hands." She told us, her smile becoming a little more genuine.

Itachi and I did as we were told. When we returned mother tasked us with setting the table and so Itachi and I did that next. We didn't set a place for father. He wouldn't be home so early. He hadn't been home early in a long time.

Sitting down I tried not to salivate too hard as mother placed the dishes on the table. She was an _amazing_ cook.

"Itadakimasu!" I eagerly exclaimed before picking up my chopsticks. Mother and Itachi did the same.

I closed my eyes at the first bite, savoring the sweet taste. This was so good.

Mother asked us more about our afternoon and I was happy to let Itachi tell her using his cute, perfectly factual manner of speaking. With beautiful grammar and a wide vocabulary of course. It gave me the chance to enjoy every bite of my delicious meal with only a few additions to the conversation. Itachi held mother's attention well enough with his very thorough, very detailed retelling.

None of us looked at the empty head of the table.

After we were done Itachi and I helped with the dishes and went to sit down in the living room.

I decided to gather my charcoal and start a new drawing. It was one of my favorite pastimes, my current ability exceptionally higher then it had been in my previous life. Probably caused by my different genes – always so odd to think about – because even as an adult I'd never had hands as steady as I do now.

It was also one of the few things I was actually better at then my twin. Though that could also be because of a lack of interest on Itachi's part.

Itachi sat down next to me, preparing to continue his book 'The Tale Of The Lucky Dragon'. My twin adored reading as much as I did. Especially historical myths and legends, both of us capable of sitting down and completely losing ourselves in these imaginary worlds.

I was _overjoyed_ I could read again. Even if I still needed help translating characters every now and then.

The best thing about it all was I could never be certain whether these stories were fiction or truth. After all, I'd read 'Ancient Myths Of The Nine-Tailed Fox'.

But tonight I was drawing. There had been an incredibly pretty bird sitting nearby during our practice and I was determined to make it real before I forgot what it looked like. I concentrated on the image in my mind, the specific patterns on it's wings and chest, the marked face. Sweeps and strokes, spots and stripes. My hand flew over the paper, fingers becoming sticky and black.

Eventually I put down the charcoal and looked at the finished result, satisfied. It was a very nice bird.

"Well done Hanako." Mother said, startling me. Apparently she'd sat down behind me at some point, but I'd been too absorbed to notice.

I smiled up at her.

"Thank you." I said, pleased by the compliment.

I was proud of my ability. And not without reason, if I did say so myself.

"Is that the bird from the training grounds?" Itachi asked, having put aside his book when he saw me finish.

"Yes it is." I was gratified he'd recognized it.

"The bird from the training grounds? I did not hear of this before." Mother said, bemused eyes looking down at us.

"There was a speckled brown one with white and gray patterns sitting behind us for some time as we were practicing." Itachi explained. "It was very pretty and looked like this one. Except it was slimmer, it's tail feathers were a little longer, it had one less stripe in the lower pattern on it's wings, two more dots beside it's eyes and it's beak was more sharply curved. And it didn't breathe fire."

Artistic freedom and all that.

"I see." Mother's eyes twinkled.

"Mine looks much better then the real one." I assured her.

Itachi nodded his assent as well.

"It looks like a creatively patterned raven." Because to Itachi every bird had some element that somehow looked like a raven. Attention to details by a child genius at it's finest.

Mother looked suitably solemn.

"Do you want to put it with the others?" I asked my twin.

Itachi cocked his head, seriously considering the question instead of simply accepting. I could understand why, the box next to his bed was beginning to become crowded. It seemed as if every bird I drew somehow ended up in that thing. There were _a lot_ of ravens in there.

Eventually he nodded, my picture deemed worthy of being treasured. As always.

I handed over the drawing.

"We shall go and put it away then. It is almost time for bed as well." Mother announced, making Itachi and I jerk our heads up.

"Already?" I put an extra wobble in my voice and a tremble in my bottom lip as I pouted. Combined with my natural cuteness the effect was devastating. I'd practiced in front of the mirror for hours to make sure of that, to get it just right.

Mother ignored it like it was not even there.

"Yes it is. And if you do not get ready soon I'm afraid I won't have any time left to tell you a story."

This time Itachi aimed unbelievably powerful puppy eyes at mother, searching for the slightest hint of weakness.

"You won't tell us a story?" His voice was so pathetic it even made my heart twinge, and I knew exactly what he was doing.

Mother did as well.

"I suppose that depends on how long the both of you will take to get ready for bed."

"We will be very fast and very thorough." Itachi promised, solemn and serious and award worthy.

"Truly?" Mother asked, already knowing exactly where this was going of course.

"Yes we will." I picked up where my twin left off and clapped my hands tight, tried to make my eyes even more beseeching. "We'll be very good."

"What wonderful children I have." The real affection in her voice was enough to make me feel warm.

"We only wish for your happiness, mother." The sentiment was completely true, even if Itachi delivered it in a slightly exaggerated manner, still playing the game.

"Such loving and loyal children. However could I even begin to repay such kindness?" The question was wry.

I made my eyes as hopeful as I could and put on the cutest, most adorable smile I could manage. As a four year old that was a very adorable smile indeed.

"You could read us two stories?"

Mother laughed, her joy bright and untainted.

"Perhaps. _If_ you two are indeed as fast and thorough as you say you are."

My twin and I needed no further encouragement. We bolted, mother's soft chuckles following us out.

It was good to be a kid.

 

\---

 

After getting our two stories – the family myth of Uchiha Hikaku And The Mountain Spirit and an adventure of Rakko The Rogue Ninja respectively – we were each tucked in and mother switched off the light and left. Itachi immediately slipped out of his own bed and into mine, a habit he hadn't grown out of yet.

I didn't mind, in fact I liked it. It was just like sleeping with a giant teddy bear. More importantly, I knew it made Itachi feel safe. I'd done the same when I'd been his age the first time around as well, for that exact same reason after all.

Though with Itachi it had some other unique advantages as well.

Time passed in silence and just as I was about to fall asleep my twin tapped my arm. Father had returned. Lying behind me Itachi cuddled even closer, tightening his arms around me.

Long moments passed in silence. Eventually I felt my twin shift, his breath now tickling my ear. I didn't dare make a move.

" _Hikari was killed on her mission._ " Itachi's voice was barely heard, perfect English a breath across my ears. It hit me like a punch to the gut and I had to close my eyes.

Hikari, who always grumbled when we tried to play with her, swiping at our heads, somehow never managing to hit us. Who gave us pocky when mother wasn't looking, bribing us into leaving her alone.

Hikari, who was always so happy to talk about her little sister, so proud of every little thing Mai did.

She was gone.

I bit down the sobs that wanted to escape, if I cried our parents would notice. I couldn't let that happen.

Itachi's breath hitched once, choking back the same tears I did. He continued to listen.

" _Hidden Rock is beginning to push through our borders at Grass._ " The almost soundless whisper made me swallow, sorrow replaced by fear.

Konoha was the strongest of Hidden Villages. Konoha was where the manga took place. Konoha was invincible. Konoha would get through this.

Konoha was at war. And we were _losing_.

 

\---

 

Hikari's funeral was two days later.

The day was warm, sunny and beautiful. If life were fair it would've been raining, the heavens weeping when we could not. If life were fair Hikari would still be here. Life wasn't fair.

Dressed in black my family gathered in a sea of darkness, mother at the front, holding my and Itachi's hand. There were no tears, no crying. All of us stood there, silent, blank faced and solemn.

Father stood at the head, facing us all. He'd turned up just before the start. No matter how busy this was not something he would ever miss. Father would never abandon our people.

He stood next to Hikari's picture, placed on an empty coffin. There was no body, only a charred headband. It was the only thing her teammates had been able to bring back.

"Uchiha Hikari was one of Konoha's most talented young kunoichi. Her mastery of the Sharingan and her skill with our family's fire techniques made her one of our most exceptional fighters. One of our strongest people." His voice was even, deep and rich, carrying across the crowd.

"She gave her life for our village. She gave her life for her teammates. She gave her life so we would not have to, and that sacrifice will forever be honored and remembered." Father paused, closing his eyes briefly. Taking a moment to compose himself. Yet as always he forced himself to continue. Never would he disrespect the dead by stopping there.

"Hikari was brave. When she was but a newly graduated genin of thirteen she came to me, composed yet proud, and _demanded_ I give her permission to teach her teammates some of our Clan's fire techniques, because she refused to see them die simply because of 'irrational Clan paranoia'. When I refused she accepted my verdict graciously and then went and taught them the basics anyway."

I swallowed, blinked furiously, my eyes glassy. I resolutely did not look at her teammates, at the sobs I could hear.

"She was proud, stubborn, easily annoyed and above all she was loyal. Loyal to teammates, loyal to her Clan and loyal to her village. But most of all, she was loyal to her sister, the brightest light in her life."

Mai, the little girl only six years old, broke.

She wailed, a shrill sound of agony and mindless distress, body shaking, falling to her knees and screeching at the heavens, clawing at the ground. Her father, Haku, knelt by her, holding his daughter as she kicked and raged and screamed. His face stayed blank, cheeks wet with tears and eyes so bleak they were nothing but a void.

All of us stayed quiet, didn't move, didn't show any emotion. I forced back my tears, bit my cheek until the taste of copper filled my mouth, clenched mother's hand even tighter. The sorrow I felt was _nothing_ compared to Mai's and Haku's.

I would _not_ diminish their grief by bringing attention to my own.

"Uchiha Hikari was loved. She will forever be missed." Father concluded, shoulder straight, back proud, eyes fierce. A tribute.

In unison we all bowed deeply.

This was how my Clan grieved. How we said goodbye.

This was how we dealt with loss.


	9. Time Is Running Out

I narrowed my eyes at the target.

It was mocking me, I just knew it was.

I narrowed my eyes further, glaring even harder. Then I closed them, forced myself to relax. I took a deep breath. Let it out slowly. Opened my eyes.

I breathed in. I breathed out. The kunai flew. It hit the dummy in the shoulder _again._

"Ancestors spit on your eyes!" I cursed the thing loudly. And suppressed the instinctive urge to look around for mother. She wasn't home right now, I could swear if I wanted to.

Itachi chuckled, finding my suffering far too much amusing. And then, just to rub it in further, he came to stand beside me and nonchalantly threw one of his own practice knives at my target, hitting the heart perfectly.

Seeing my own pathetic attempt next to his only made my frustration rise even higher. Which was exactly why my twin had done it of course.

I gave him a dirty look. He smiled back impishly. Little troll.

He'd already finished the routine, his own dummy marked with five perfectly placed kunai, only the sixth had missed. Well, missed by Itachi's standards, which meant it was only slightly off center.

I myself was still trying to hit the third one. I'd gotten good enough that my knives now always hit the dummy, consistently blade first as well, an amazing improvement compared to a month ago. Unfortunately, I kept on missing the biggest circle emblazoned brazenly – _mockingly!_ – on it's chest. Instead my kunai kept hitting it's shoulders.

Which, granted, also had rings painted on, though smaller ones. We were supposed to hit six vital spots on the straw men and on my first try I had hit it's left shoulder dead center.

I'd been aiming for it's heart.

And _every_ _other_ kunai I'd thrown had ended up either in the left or right shoulder – my second "perfect" hit – Annoyance kept rising with each thrown blade, my frustration almost boiling over.

Itachi adored poking fun at me when I got like this.

I sighed and tried to ignore my twin standing far too innocently next to me, palming another practice knife instead. They were a lot smaller and lighter then real kunai, not to mention they were as blunt as could be. Even our constantly pushing parents wouldn't ever be so irresponsible as to let us use lethally sharp weapons. Not yet.

We – okay, _I_ – would have to improve a lot more before they would. And even then, I very much doubted mother and father would let us use them without supervision. Practice kunai it was.

I glanced back at the empty house. Father was at work of course, and mother was with Haku and Mai, doing her best to keep them from falling apart completely. We'd gone with her these past few days, but today she'd put us to training instead. I think she wanted to give us a break. It was a welcome one.

Seeing Mai, who'd always been so vibrant, now so devoid of life, was incredibly heartbreaking. And disturbing. Like a perfectly empty china doll.

So today mother had gone alone. Or rather, without us, because right now Haku's and Mai's house was never empty. Members of my family were each taking turns making sure they were never alone for too long.

But it was hard. Mai and Haku weren't the only ones who'd lost loved ones recently, not by far. The civilians of our Clan were stretched just as thin as the military, trying to keep our family together, to keep everyone sane.

Because one thing the manga had gotten spot on was the fact Uchiha often went utterly insane when confronted with the loss of a loved one, and it could happen ridiculously fast. That wasn't something exclusive to my family of course, anyone could go mad from grief. But it was also true the Uchiha were especially vulnerable to this.

Yet what the manga hadn't shown was that my Clan was also completely aware of this and we did everything in our power to make sure that didn't happen. The most effective way to prevent this sudden insanity was to make sure any Uchiha who'd suffered a loss had loved ones constantly looking after them, and continue doing so for a pretty long time. Reminding them they weren't alone, that there were others who still needed them. Reminding them they were still loved.

Even then it didn't always work.

I pushed those thoughts aside and focused on my target once more instead. I relaxed. I breathed in –

Itachi tapped my shoulder.

All the air rushed out of me in another disgusted sigh. My shoulder. _Again_. And I hadn't even noticed.

Frowning, I closed my eyes in order to fully concentrate on the movement of my arm. I prepared myself to throw.

I breathed in – and there it was. I was tensing my shoulder instead of my loosening my wrist. Damn it all.

Grumbling, I threw down the knife forcefully. Childish, yes, but right now I didn't care.

"Let's go do something else." I told my twin petulantly.

Because I knew if I continued I'd only miss yet again and grow more frustrated. Which meant I'd make more mistakes. And that in turn would make me even more annoyed. I was not going to fall down that particular trap.

Itachi arched a brow.

"What would you like to do instead?" He asked, willing to go along.

I cocked my head, considering.

" _Magic?_ " I asked in English hopefully, but Itachi immediately shook his head.

"You're too agitated right now, training will only make that worse. You have to be calm or it won't work."

I groaned at his answer but couldn't deny the truth. I just really wanted to be able to enhance my own senses – my hearing in particular – the way my twin did. But even practicing constantly and with Itachi attempting to explain what he was doing exactly, I still had trouble using my chakra.

I could find it easy enough. It was actually pretty impossible to miss the warm, intangible yet at the same time almost substantial liquid caffeine running through me. At least, once I knew what to look for. But making it do what I wanted? Not so easy.

Who would've ever thought magic would be so hard to learn?

"You could draw me a raven." Itachi suggested as an alternative. I couldn't help but laugh at that typical answer. Which was the reaction my twin had been aiming for of course.

"Okay Ita-chan. I'll draw you a raven" I promised him.

"One that is surrounded by lightning?" He asked with wide, pleading eyes.

I nodded seriously.

"A fierce raven crackling with electricity. I can do that."

Itachi gave an endearing smile and immediately went to gather my charcoal. My twin and ravens, hilarious.

I picked up the knife I'd dropped, turned my gaze towards the target again.

I gripped the handle delicately, focused on it's heart. I breathed in. Concentrated on my wrist. I breathed out.

My kunai landed right next to Itachi's.

Satisfaction unfurled inside me. I wasn't as good as my twin, would never possess his raw talent. But I would get there. Slower of course, but I'd get there nonetheless.

I would make sure I'd be able to stand by Itachi's side. No matter what.

 

\---

 

I was nearly finished with Itachi's raven when Kushina decided to visit.

"Anyone home?" The loud voice resonated through the air, startling me into jerking my hand and raising my head. Itachi let out a pained noise at the angry line now dissecting his raven. I looked down myself, feeling troubled. How on earth was I going to fix this?

"We're in the gardens!" I called back distracted. Maybe if I turned the line into another arch of electricity? No, it was far too big for that. A cloud hiding half the raven from view? No wait, I'd draw a darkened sky above and create a thunderstorm, turning the mistake into a giant bolt of lightning twisting in front of the bird. Maybe I'd draw some behind the raven as well. Yes, that would work.

"My favorite little monsters! How have you two been?"

I looked up as Kushina rounded the corner, a blinding smile aimed our way.

Itachi shot her a glare.

"You murdered my raven." He accused her.

Kushina faltered, confusion printed across her face. It always took a moment to adjust to the way people from outside my family showed their emotions so excessively. Kushina in particular, she was a lot more expressive then even most others not of my Clan.

"I was drawing Itachi a raven and you startled me." I explained, holding up the picture as proof.

She let out a loud gasp, a hand coming up to clutch at her chest.

"I did that?" Such heartbreak she showed. If she didn't have that foxy glint in her eyes I could almost believe it to be genuine.

Itachi glared harder.

"Yes. You did." He bit out.

Kushina smoothly fell to her knees, bowing until her forehead touching the ground.

"Forgive me Itachi-sama! Never was it my intention to destroy such a priceless work of art!"

My twin raised his chin and gave her a haughty look, drawn into the game.

"You are not forgiven." He told her gravely.

Kushina's gleaming eyes peaked out from behind her scarlet hair, still low to the ground.

"Oh the agony! The pain! I shall have to take my own life in order to erase this unbearable shame I have brought upon myself!"

And with that she rose her upper body in one fluid movement, a kunai suddenly in hand and held above her heart. It was a little creepy how easily she would do this in front of two little children like us. Then again, in some ways ninja didn't believe in coddling children. In others they were a lot worse.

"Wait!" I called out dramatically, perfectly timed. Kushina froze.

I put down the picture and laid a hand on my twin's shoulder.

"If she kills herself." I told him very seriously "She will never be able to play with us _ever again_."

Itachi wavered. His eyes flickered to mine, then returned to the redhead still frozen in that ridiculous pose. He pursed his lips. My twin, the actor.

"I suppose taking your own life would be a little too harsh as punishment." He finally allowed. Then he narrowed his eyes.

"Instead, you shall play ninja with us." He proclaimed, daring Kushina to say no.

Of course she didn't. Instead she grinned brilliantly again, kunai gone as fast as it had appeared.

"I can do that." She said happily.

I felt my own smile grow. Playing ninja – a more complicated version of tag combined with hide-and-seek – was fun with other children, but to be honest, it was often too easy.

With real ninja it became a _challenge_.

"Great! You can be the enemy chasing us." I beamed back. In so far as Uchiha beam, I had no doubt Kushina found my expressions subdued. Then again, she'd been around us long enough to understand what we meant.

Itachi nodded his assent as well, eyes never leaving Kushina.

"And you're not allowed to use chakra." My twin stipulated. It basically meant the redhead wouldn't walk vertical surfaces or jump higher then about two meters. But to little children like us that meant a serious advantage.

"Sure, it'll be fun! But before we start, where's your mom today?" Now that the drama was over her language instantly became more relaxed.

Itachi and I shared a look. He tilted his chin. I thinned my lips. He raised a brow. I sighed.

"She went to visit Haku and Mai again today." I finally told Kushina, the redhead looking at us in amusement. But my answer changed that expression to puzzlement.

"I see?" And from her question it was clear she didn't.

Not that surprising, Kushina usually dropped by in the evening, knowing how busy mother was during the day. The redhead wasn't used to me and Itachi being so reluctant to talk about mother's whereabouts. Didn't understand what that meant.

My twin and I shared another look.

"Haku's oldest daughter, Hikari, died a week ago on a mission." Itachi said, voice soft and subdued.

For one eternal moment Kushina's face showed the exhaustion and despair everyone seemed to be suffering. But she immediately covered it back up, only her eyes continuing to betray her.

"Ah. I see." There really wasn't anything else to say.

So she clapped her hands and plastered on a false smile.

"Well then. Want to play ninja until your mom returns?"

We played ninja.

 

\---

 

Kushina didn't simply stay for lunch after mother returned, she stayed until dinner.

In between visiting family members she talked to mother about everything and nothing at all. And when mother became busy, Kushina coached Itachi and me – mostly me – through our training.

With her help I eventually managed to hit all six targets, though not as perfectly as my twin. Itachi upgraded his own difficulty by switching hands. After that he started turning his back to the target before he threw.

The redhead also allowed Itachi to quiz her persistently about the different ways to throw kunai – apparently, Kushina enhanced her own throws with pure wind chakra. Interesting – during which I managed to salvage Itachi's raven. The smile my twin gave at the finished result was all the reward I needed.

Kushina was dramatically appreciative as well.

And when dinner was served, the redhead stayed and retold the epic story of 'Kushina The Magnificent And The Hunt For Two Very Sneaky Monsters, dattebane!' Complete with wild movements and exaggerated sound effects.

She made mother laugh like I hadn't heard for too long.

By unspoken agreement Itachi and I each took another book after dinner and installed ourselves in the living room, letting mother enjoy her carefree evening to the fullest.

The war seemed so far away right now.

 

\---

 

The next day Itachi and I stayed home again. After we finished our usual stretches and basic routines, mother left us with some more kunai exercises and went to visit aunt Rumiko.

Rumiko had lost her husband two weeks ago.

Itachi and I immediately stopped our practicing the moment we were sure she'd really left, sitting across each other on the porch instead.

' _Do you think Hidden Cloud will attack?'_ My twin articulated slowly and silently in perfect English, head cocked to show it was a question.

I'd started to teach Itachi the language when we'd been about three years old. I had liked the idea of a secret language. My twin had as well, he'd picked it up even faster than he did most things. And when father had caught us practicing one day soon after, he'd told us it would be a lot more useful if we also learned how to lipread, because every "code" could be deciphered if given a big enough sample. And it was much easier to hide movement than it was to hide sound.

Parenting, Ninja Style.

' _I don't know.'_ I mouthed back.

I truly didn't, the manga had never talked about the Third War in depth. But yesterday father had talked about how Hidden Cloud had finally pushed back Hidden Rock from the Land Of Hot Water. Incidentally giving Hidden Cloud direct access to our own borders. Despite their ongoing conflict with Hidden Rock, that might prove to be a target too tempting to resist.

 _'It's possible.'_ I soundlessly said.

Konoha was fighting on too many fronts. We were weakening, and the other Hidden Villages smelt blood. Only Hidden Sand was our nominal ally, and apparently that had more to do with the fact they despised Konoha only slightly less then they hated Hidden Rock.

 _'Isn't it possible they could turn towards the Land Of Water instead?'_ Itachi wondered and I immediately shook my head.

 _'That wouldn't make any sense. They would have to cross the ocean, put an enormous amount of time and resources into creating a feasible position to launch attacks from. There wouldn't be any real profit in it for them, not enough to justify all the effort it would take.'_ Living a war had given me a completely justified interest in the logistics and motivations behind them. Though when questioning our parents on "hypothetical scenario's" I had to be careful not to give away the fact Itachi and I were eavesdropping on them. Which made it a lot more challenging to gather information.

Luckily our parents never had any problems indulging my many strange inquiries, even when I was probably showing a much too complex understanding of their answers for my age. The best thing about having a genius twin was the fact that I didn't even have to try to hide my own maturity. Next to Itachi I was downright normal.

I didn't think I was particularly good at figuring out the reasons behind this conflict. Or more accurately, not better then any average adult who hadn't spend years studying these issues. But right now this was something I was simply better at then Itachi. Despite his keen interest in history, I possessed a far deeper grasp of the concepts that could cause a country to go to war and the emotions behind them. Logical, seeing as he was only four years old, genius or not.

 _'But Hidden Rock is still fighting them, why would they also attack Konoha?'_ My twin wondered and I pursed my lips, considering.

 _'I think they probably want our land.'_ I answered eventually, uncertain of my conclusion. But it was the only thing I could think of.

Historically speaking Hidden Cloud has often been an enemy to Konoha, mostly by trying to acquire – read; kidnapping – our bloodlines and Clan techniques. I'm sure the prospect of gaining a few more was also incredibly tempting to them.

But I still believed it was our land that was the primary target right now. War was an enormous drain on every possible resource after all. And the Land Of Fire had some of the most fertile grounds there were.

That was the main reason Hidden Rock had attacked us as well, their own lands mostly barren and simply not suited to farming. There were a lot of factors involved of course, like the fact the culture in which I now lived actively encouraged fighting. And by extension encouraged waging war. But greed for our land was most likely the biggest motivator right now.

Itachi scoffed out loud.

 _'I don't understand why any of them want to wage war at all.'_ He said while frowning, every part of him radiating annoyance. My twin didn't like not understanding things. I was glad he didn't yet grasp the ugliness people were capable of, the horrible things we could do. He was too kind for that.

So I shrugged in response. I had to admit I'd never really understood it either. But that had more to do with the fact I'd always avoided pain and fighting myself.

From an objective point of view I suppose I could see the logic, the desire to possess an abundance of food and resources. But personally I was far too much of a pacifist – by which I meant I was too much of a coward – to ever fight unless my life or those of my loved ones were in immediate danger.

I knew that would change, ninja didn't have the luxury of peace. But right now I still found it utterly insane. I sincerely hoped I never lost that feeling. I feared I would.

 

\---

 

In the afternoon Itachi and I went to a secluded and forested part on the Clan grounds, seeking solitude and privacy.

As Itachi started going through another slow dance of kata's I sat down on the grass, crossed my legs and closed my eyes. It was time to wrestle with my chakra.

That was a horribly inaccurate description of what I was doing, but sometimes it felt completely true.

Chakra was... complicated. It was a part of me, and I used it in the same instinctive way I breathed. Maybe it should've felt strange to me, more foreign. I still vividly remembered a time I hadn't had this intense, almost pulsing energy running through me. But somehow it wasn't weird or unnatural.

In fact, I hadn't become aware of the difference until I'd actively started to search for it. In the same way my body had always felt like my own, despite the fact I still felt disorientated sometimes when looking at my too small hands or when seeing a little dark haired girl staring back out of a mirror.

It didn't _feel_ foreign.

Chakra was simply there. It flowed through me in currents, rushing when I exercised, calming when I relaxed. When I concentrated it seemed as if I could feel every single twist and stream. I could even move it, agitating the river or keeping it placid.

But using it specifically to enhance my senses? That seemed like an impossible task, even when I absolutely knew it wasn't. Our parents did it without any effort and so did Itachi.

Yet when I tried strengthening my own hearing – or any other sense – I always failed. I could push the flow, could make the amount of chakra climb higher, let it swirl chaotically between my ears. Now _that_ was an incredibly odd feeling. Like what I imagined injecting a shot of pure adrenaline would feel like, electrifying and turbulent.

Yet it _didn't work!_ The chakra was there, but it didn't actually do anything.

Itachi had tried to explain how it felt, the strings detaching and weaving inside his inner auditory canal, tympanic membrane and other connected organs – his words, not mine – and somehow making every sound clearer, more distinct. Making him capable of counting every mouse crawling under our house if he focused hard enough.

So why was this so incredibly difficult?

I relaxed. Concentrated all my attention on the currents flowing inside me. I wouldn't be able to do so for long, it took a lot of effort to focus completely like this.

The river slowed down. It always did when I turned my attention towards it, as if the very act made my chakra aware of what I was doing. I knew it was the other way around, but that's what it felt like.

I slowly teased the biggest concentration of chakra inside my stomach, lost all sense of time as I immersed myself in the act. I coaxed the well into producing a little more, guided that excess up my spine, to the top of my neck. Now for the tricky part.

Patiently, delicately – so, so delicately – I split the stream in two, guided the chakra to my ears, wove it tighter throughout the different organs I could now suddenly detect.

I started to hear a low buzz. I pushed harder.

The buzz became a high pitch, ringing loudly. Higher, higher, until it became a knife stabbing my brain. I tried to hold it, tried to force my hearing to turn towards my surroundings but the pitch became too deafening, too piercing, _too painful!_

With a cry of rage I broke my concentration and let the chakra dissipate.

Failed. _Again_. I'd been working on this for half a year! And there was _no_ progress! It was maddening!

My hands came up to rub my ears, the ringing slowly fading. Opening my eyes I saw Itachi look at me with compassion as he finished the last of his routine. This was one of the few things my twin wouldn't tease me about, he knew how much this bothered me.

I sighed loudly and dropped back into the grass, closing my eyes again. I'd try again in a few minutes, maybe my nose this time. But right now I needed to wallow in my frustration.

Itachi apparently sat down next to me, because I felt his hand pat me on the head.

"You'll figure it out eventually." He told me, voice still muffled to my ears. I grimaced at the truth.

I didn't have time for "eventually". This was something so basic I had to figure it out, find a way to make it work.

How could I ever be expected to graduate at the same time as Itachi if I couldn't even figure out something this simple? I _needed_ to be capable of this. And time was slowly running out.

Because from what I could tell every ninja did this. Sure, some were more proficient then others, creating gaps between individuals that were as great as those between an average shinobi and a civilian. But every ninja could enhance their base level to superhuman ones.

"I just don't understand what I'm doing wrong." I told my twin without opening my eyes, the ringing in my ears almost gone.

Itachi stayed silent. He didn't either, and that bothered him.

"Doing what wrong?" A voice that was not my twin's broke through.

My eyes snapped open and I shot upright, feeling a smile grow.

"Obito! What are you doing here?" I asked him happily, my previous frustration falling away.

Obito had quickly become one of my favorite cousins, even with my knowledge of what he could be capable of. He was just so genuine and kind. Not to mention so much fun, always willing to make some time to play with me and Itachi.

"I was on my way to meet sensei and the team, but then I heard you and I thought; what could my too smart little cousin possibly be having so much trouble with?" He gave us wide grin as he sat down next to us, making me giggle.

Obito always treated me as if I was just as much a genius as my twin. Blatantly untrue, but it was nice to pretend every now and again. It did wonders for my ego.

"Hana-chan thinks she should be able to keep up a handstand indefinitely without getting dizzy." Itachi lied without skipping a beat.

There was absolutely no chance in hell were we going to risk my training getting back to our parents. If they found out, they'd also figure out Itachi was eavesdropping on them. And then they'd take steps to hide their conversations from us.

If that happened, Itachi and I would never be able to gather detailed information about the war ever again. The only reason we were getting away with it now was because our parents didn't suspect a thing.

"I don't think that's actually possible for you yet." Obito teased, looking relieved it wasn't something more serious.

So I scoffed and scrunched my nose, following my twin's lead.

"And why not? Why shouldn't I be able to do this? You can do it." I told him with a scowl, as if the question actually bothered me.

Obito shrugged mischievously, giving me another wide grin, his eyes managing to sparkle even behind obnoxiously bright goggles.

"Yes, but I'm already a chuunin, remember. _You_ can't even use chakra yet. Try learning the leaf exercise before you attempt something more difficult."

The world stood still.

I stared at Obito, wide eyed and gaping, utterly stunned.

I... I was an _idiot!_

"I wouldn't go that far, you're kind of scarily smart you know." Obito said. Apparently I'd said that out loud. I didn't care, my mind still rattling around from the sledgehammer of a revelation I'd just gotten hit by.

Because I'd been going about my chakra training in the complete and utterly _wrong_ way. I _knew_ the first thing anyone ever learned when manipulating chakra was the leaf exercise. _And I was trying to skip it!_

I groaned, actually smacked my head, because I. Was. An. Idiot!

I wasn't like Itachi, who could cheerfully skip five steps and still complete an impossibly advanced exercise with no problem. I wasn't a prodigy like him.

Which meant I had to build from the ground up, start at the basics. And I hadn't. All the practice I'd been doing was the equivalent of trying to sprint when I hadn't even figured out how to crawl yet.

Idiot! Moron! _Imbecile!_

And judging from Itachi's soft chuckle I'd said that out loud again.

I looked at my twin, feeling dazed.

"I'm the biggest idiot to ever walk this earth." Because this absolutely needed to be repeated.

"Don't worry, I love you anyway." Itachi patted my head again. I was still too stunned to react.

"Hey! Don't say that! If you're an idiot, then what does that make me?" Obito interjected cheerfully.

I turned very serious eyes towards him.

"You are a _genius_." I swore fiercely, meaning every word.

The leaf exercise. Ancestors, how long would I have continued to miss this _blindingly obvious_ mistake without his help?

Obito blushed, scratching his cheek and looking away bashfully.

I stood up and walked over to where he was sitting, hugging him tight.

"You are my most favorite cousin ever." I solemnly declared and gave him a loud, smacking kiss on the cheek, abandoning Uchiha restraint in favor of showing exactly how impossibly grateful I was. I could see his cheeks heat up even further.

"Yeah, I'm kind of amazing." He tried to joke, but I could see he was genuinely touched by what I'd said. I smiled at him, gave him another loud kiss just to see him squirm.

"You really are." I said. He was as red as a tomato by now. It was adorable.

"Better then Kakashi?" He asked hopefully. I nodded immediately.

"So much better then Kakashi he's not even in the same league." Right now Obito was better then the First Hokage himself. Not to mention Clan loyalty and all that.

"The Third should promote you to jounin, you absolutely deserve it." I told him.

Obito's reaction was not what I'd expected, his expression turning panicked in an instant.

"I'm late!" He yelped, jumping up and making me release my hold on him.

"Sorry, sorry. But I have to go! Kakashi is going to kill me! Sensei is going to kill me! _Rin-chan_ is going to kill me! Damn, damn, damn!" He was working himself into quite the spectacular frenzy. It's amazing how quickly he switched emotions like that.

"Then why did you stop here if you were already late?" Itachi immediately asked far too innocently. If Obito was already late my twin would ensure he would be even more so, if only a few more seconds.

If it were anyone but Obito he wouldn't, my twin understood the importance of punctuality. But it was Obito, he was always late.

Obito groaned, hands coming up to tug at his hair harshly.

"I didn't mean to! But Kikyo needed help finding the way and then I carried her luggage and then I heard you two talking and got curious and a little worried and oh Ancestors, I'm going to die! I have to go! They're all going to be waiting for me, damn it!" He gave a jerky wave, eyes wide and frantic behind his goggles. "See you later!"

And before Itachi could make an attempt to keep him here even longer Obito jumped into a tree as if it were as easy as hopping a chair. That was always so amazing to see.

"Don't get crushed by rocks!" I called out my usual farewell, another absent wave over his shoulder showing he'd heard me and then he blurred forward, disappearing amongst the leaves.

Useless advice? Yes, I was very aware of this. But I didn't know what else to do.

Most of the time I did my very best not to think too hard about the future. Because even after all these years I just... I didn't know what I could do.

What could I say? Who could I tell? Who would believe a child like me? How could I even prove it? And what if they did believe me? Would I get taken away? My mind shredded by the Yamanaka? Disappear into Root?

Would the Third order the execution of my entire Clan simply because they _might_ rebel in the far future?

I'd love to say he wouldn't, but... Konoha was a military dictatorship. With all the dark and ugly deeds that implied.

And in Obito's case, I barely remembered anything about what would happen. I didn't know when his fateful accident would occur, only knew it would happen sometime during this war. I didn't know where it would take place, couldn't even remember what mission his team was supposed to be on when everything would go to hell.

What I did know was that Rin would get kidnapped and Obito would give a life-altering speech to Kakashi before going after her. Kakashi would eventually decide his teammates were more important than the rules and follow Obito. And then it would all come crashing down.

That was the extend of my knowledge. How could I prevent that? Demand Obito stop taking missions? Warn him he would get crushed by rocks if Rin was ever kidnapped on a mission?

 _I'd already tried that! Multiple times!_  But Obito always laughed and simply waved my warnings away, telling me he would never allow Rin-chan to get kidnapped, that he was far too strong and awesome to ever die like that. After all, he was going to become Hokage he'd assured me with a wide, cocky grin.

How could I make him see?

Time was running out. 

 


	10. Confronting Reality

After Obito left I walked back to my twin and sat down in front of him.

Itachi handed over one of the leaves littering the ground, another one already between his fingers. I held mine up in front of me, still unable to believe I'd been missing something so obvious.

"So we're supposed to expel chakra to make the leaf stick to our body." I said to my twin pensively as I twirled the fragile green stalk. I had enough cousins going through the academy to have heard all about this particular exercise before. I just hadn't connected it to my own issues with my sensory training.

Normally the leaf was placed on the forehead, but in reality it didn't actually matter where you placed it. Any part of the body could expel chakra after all.

Itachi looked at his own leaf, now held in the center of his palm. He tilted his hand towards the ground. The leaf kept sticking to his palm.

And that right there was the reason my twin hadn't figured out the problem I'd been having either.

Being smarter then almost everyone else meant Itachi had trouble figuring out what was and wasn't obvious to other people. He tried of course, and he wasn't bad at it. But there were just so many things my twin understood without consciously thinking them through that it was inevitable he'd miss a lot of obvious things as well. Especially when it came to using chakra. Unlike throwing kunai he couldn't just observe the differences between what he was doing and what other people did.

"It doesn't take a lot of chakra, approximately half to thrice the amount less than the other thing." Itachi told me, carefully not mentioning what the other thing was exactly.

Rule number one when trying to keep a secret among ninja's: don't talk about it.

"What does it feel like?" I asked. My twin furrowed his brow, debating on how to word it.

"You gather your chakra in your hand and guide it underneath the boundaries of the leaf. You push your chakra upwards through your skin, but only as much as the leaf can take, so you have to stop increasing your output when you feel it's been filled to capacity. Then you have to keep up that constant rate of expulsion to make sure the leaf doesn't fall off." My twin said, deliberate and slow, still staring at his down turned hand.

"How do you know when the leaf is filled to capacity?" I asked. Itachi looked up.

"There's a change in the way your chakra feels, because the chakra in the leaf begins to react with the chakra you're still sending out."

I hummed to show I'd gotten all that, turned my attention towards my own leaf.

I stretched my hand, palm up, the leaf now lying in the center. Concentrating on the well inside me I slowly squeezed out an extra drop and guided it up my spine and through my arm, into my palm. I carefully collected it all until I felt certain it was concentrated directly under the surface of the leaf. Then I pushed it outwards.

The leaf crumpled and shot up wildly into the air. This was going to be harder then I thought.

I sighed and looked back down at my twin. I froze.

"What's wrong?" I asked frantically, getting to my knees and scrambling closer towards him, grabbing his hands, the exercise forgotten completely.

Itachi was wide eyed and pale, his lips thin and colorless, completely motionless, not even breathing. My twin was _terrified_.

"Ita, what's wrong?" I repeated, voice high and shrill, feeling my own panic starting to choke me.

" _You are never going to train your senses without a teacher_ _ **ever again**_ _._ _"_ His English was hoarse, sharp and fierce. Commanding.

I reeled back, bewildered and stunned. Itachi had never forbidden me from doing _anything_. Advised me to try a different way, or to wait until later, yes. But never outright forbidden.

"Why?" I asked, utterly baffled and still on the edge of panic. Why was this so important to him? What had scared him so badly? What was wrong? _How do I fix it?_

His eyes flicked up and he untangled a hand to pluck the still drifting leaf I'd used out of the air. He held it out in front of him. I felt my confusion climb even higher, so strong it almost managed to erase my previous terror.

I looked at the crinkled leaf, thrust forward as if to accuse me and turned my bewildered gaze back to Itachi's. His eyes hardened at my perplexed expression. I was missing Something Big.

"Hanako." My full name. What on earth had I done that was so wrong? _"This exercise takes_ _ **at least**_ _less than half the magic need to enhance your senses. And you used so much you almost destroyed the leaf! You didn't even notice! What do you think would happen if you made the same miscalculation in your ears? Your eyes? Your_ _ **brain**_ _? You could maim yourself for life!_ _ **You could die!**_ _"_ Itachi screamed the last sentence, face tight, teeth bared, fear, rage and mindless panic all intermingled, projected in a way I had never seen from my even tempered twin.

I opened my mouth. Closed it.

I... What I'd been doing hadn't been that dangerous. It couldn't be, it was so basic. Wasn't it? I mean, I knew chakra exhaustion could be fatal, but I'd never even pushed my own limits, always stopping when I started to feel the first stirring of fatigue. And I had such small reserves, always got tired so fast. Surely I wasn't using a dangerous amount of chakra.

Except Itachi was almost never wrong about these things. Except I'd never seen my twin this horrified and shaken. He was utterly convinced I could kill myself doing this.

" _I will never train my senses without a teacher ever again. I promise Itachi."_ I swore solemnly, using my twin's full name to show how serious I was.

Itachi surged forward, clutching me so tight it was almost painful. As if fearing I would disappear right this instant. I hugged him back, started humming a random tune as I felt him shake and softly rubbed his back.

It was possible Itachi was wrong, that he was overreacting. But even if he was, I would've promised anyway, if only to make sure my twin would never be this frightened ever again.

I ignored the tears I could feel soaking through my shirt. Shame and guilt welled up inside me for making him feel this way, even if I knew it was mostly unfounded. I couldn't have known the danger. But that in itself was reason enough for me to feel those things. I'd been reckless and arrogant, playing with things I didn't really understand, even after our parents had explicitly forbidden it. I'd been playing around with my _inner organs_.

When put like that my previous statements about me being an idiot rang even more true.

I would have to be more careful. I had to get to Itachi's level, but I couldn't sacrifice my own personal safety for that. I would never do that to my twin and family.

Though obviously this also meant I would have to work even harder on my control. I'd thought I'd been pretty good at it. Evidently not.

 

\---

 

Staring at the dish of gherkins in front of me I frantically racked my brain for what I'd done wrong. It had to be something I'd done today.

Next to me Itachi was looking at a plate full of delicately grilled steak with the same suspicion and worry I was feeling.

I shared an uneasy glance with my twin. We both looked up at mother, who was patiently waiting for our reaction.

"Is there something the matter, mother?" My twin asked carefully, his voice and posture screaming his discomfort. I had no doubt my own body language was as awkward as his.

Mother gave us a beautiful smile.

"I do not know. _Is_ there something the matter, my dear children?"

She knew. Maybe not the specifics, but she knew.

It shouldn't have been a surprise. After that emotional outburst in the clearing Itachi and I hadn't practiced chakra anymore, simply lazed around until Itachi finally calmed down and became centered again. But my twin hadn't let go of my hand since, not until mother had called us for dinner. Even now his knee was still touching mine.

So of course mother would notice something had happened. And since we hadn't told her what, it followed that it had to be something she didn't approve of. This was her way of giving us a final warning, if we didn't come clean now the consequences would be grave.

I shared another uneasy look with Itachi. If we tried to lie mother would know. I furrowed my brow. He thinned his lips. I scowled. He grimaced.

"We tried the leaf exercise this afternoon." Itachi confessed and looked down his lap. My own eyes turned towards the ceiling.

One of the things our parents were utterly adamant about was that we were not to use chakra in any capacity without supervision. Though they hadn't taught us any control exercise yet or even shown us how to search for it, this was still one of the most important rules of our household. I'd always assumed it was because of the potential chakra exhaustion. Now I guessed there were some other very valid reasons behind it as well.

"Is that so?" I twitched. Such a sweet voice. This was not going to end well. I felt Itachi shift next to me.

"And how did you two do?" The soft question made goosebumps break out. I clutched Itachi's hand under the table.

The silence stretched.

"I became a little disorientated." I finally blurted, answering what mother was really asking. It wasn't a lie, I always got a little disorientated when trying to enhance my senses.

Rule number two when trying to keep a secret among ninja's: if you're about to get caught, use as much of the truth as you can in order to misdirect.

I warily brought my eyes back down. Mother's expression was perfectly calm and serene.

"That is quite a common reaction, especially at your age." Her even statement hit me like a punch to the gut. Ancestors, how did mother _do_ that?

Mother's eyes shifted towards my twin. Itachi tightened his grip on mine.

"But Itachi was perfectly fine, he had no problems and completed the exercise perfectly!" I quickly added, rushing through the sentence, hoping to take the heat off my twin. It didn't work.

"Of course he did." This time I could almost hear Itachi flinch, even as I turned my own gaze back towards the ceiling.

"And I'm sure he carefully explained to you just how to accomplish this feat yourself, did he not Hanako?"

Mother's smooth and silken voice forced me to meet her eyes again. The temperature dropped.

"Yes." I answered in a truly pathetic voice, feeling every inch the four year old I physically was. My eyes quickly dropped towards my lap.

"I'm truly sorry mother." Itachi blurted, apparently unable to bear the pressure any longer.

"I'm sorry as well mother. We won't _ever_ do it again." I promised immediately after, not quite able to raise my head.

The silence from the other side was thick and heavy. Hesitantly I brought my eyes back up, risking a quick glance. I immediately averted my eyes towards Itachi instead.

My twin was still looking down, our fingers interwoven so tightly I could feel my bloodstream being cut off. Mother's voice, when she finally spoke again, was mild, pleasant and razor sharp.

"I certainly hope this won't happen again." _You will_ _ **not**_ _like the consequences if it does_ went unspoken but was heard loud and clear. I swallowed.

"Now that this issue has been cleared up, you will eat your dinner. All of it." She concluded, still sounding calm, polite and so very angry.

I finally let go of Itachi's hand – but kept my knee pressed to his – and reached for the dish in front of me. I took some of the gherkins.

"Itadakimasu." I mumbled as I picked up my chopsticks, my twin taking some of the steak and repeating after me.

Gherkins were my least favorite food _ever_.

 

\---

 

The next morning father woke up me and Itachi when the sun only just started to rise. It was a mixed blessing. On one hand, I'd _missed_ him, his voice, his smile, his touch, the ache so sharp it was almost physical. On the other hand, the reason he'd personally woken us up was because he'd decided it was high time to step up our training.

In other words, it was time for our punishment. It went even worse than I'd feared.

I could now dodge shuriken – fake rubber ones at least – with more speed and agility then I ever thought possible before this day. Pain was an extremely effective motivator.

Our parents were _furious_. I thanked every one of the ancestors they didn't know about our other practices, even if I no longer had any intention of continuing those. If they ever found out I think the resulting punishment would actually kill us.

Though the fact the no-chakra rule had always been so harshly emphasized _probably_ should have been a strong enough signal for my twin and I not to experiment on our own.

To call our parents unobservant would ring so false they'd be able to hear it all the way up in Hidden Cloud. They were completely aware Itachi and I were different, that we were too intelligent by half – if in completely distinct ways – and they acknowledged and accepted that we were both capable of things far beyond normal for our age. On our third birthday they'd still sat us down and impressed upon us one very important rule when training.

No. Consciously. Using. Chakra. Without. Their. Supervision.

… Itachi and I _might_ be deserving of this training from hell.

But the keyword in that rule was _consciously_.

Itachi has been using chakra since before he'd even become aware of what it was. It's why he throws so accurately, why he's perfectly in control of his limbs, why he never seems to get tired, why he can adjust the strength of his senses without any effort.

It just hadn't been noticeable for a really long time he did all this. The initial minuscule effects grew so gradually that for a long time I hadn't even noticed just what he'd been doing. Though our parents probably had, that was most likely the reason for the conditional "consciously".

And of course my twin hadn't realized other people – who weren't ninja's – didn't do the same either. How could he?

The first time I'd even noticed my twin didn't simply possess sharp senses, but could actually make them superhuman, had been no more than half a year ago. Itachi had been keeping watch as I'd climbed up the cupboard to pilfer a few cookies. He'd noticed mother approaching because of her distinctive smell drifting closer through the open window. I hadn't been able to smell more than the faint traces of herbs and spices that always hung inside our kitchen.

So of course I'd immediately begged him to teach me. In English, making the decision to keep it hidden from our parents from the very beginning. Because just imagine what you could do with _secret_ super senses.

For example, you could spy on certain people without them ever noticing and find out detailed and often highly classified information about the war your home is fighting in.

But more importantly, practicing this on our own hadn't seemed risky or dangerous in any way. Because of my more mature mind I'd arrogantly assumed this couldn't be that difficult to learn, that our parents' caution and warnings didn't apply to me.

Uchiha pride at it's worst.

And now here I was, flat on the ground, wheezing, completely exhausted and aching all over. Itachi was lying next to me, just as spend, desperately gasping for breath. Father's "evasion training" had been relentless and without mercy.

"Your speed and movements were... adequate." Ouch. Father was not pulling any punches today.

I was too drained to even attempt a grunt. But Itachi actually managed a slightly garbled sound that could have been a groan.

"The following days you will continue these exercises with your mother. I expect you to show significant progress by the end of this week or we will increase your level of training."

A pained wheeze escaped me. Ancestors have mercy.

"Now get up. You will perform your stretches." Harsh. Necessary if we didn't want to suffer even more later on, but harsh.

I twitched my hand. Oh, the agony.

Itachi, in an extraordinary show of physical progress, rolled to his stomach and managed to get to his knees. He had to stop there though, take another moment to catch his breath. But then he actually got to his feet, only looking a little unsteady.

I kept looking at him from the corner of my eyes, not moving yet. I was mentally preparing myself. I was going to get up. In a minute.

"Hanako." The rebuke was sharp. I closed my eyes.

With a herculean effort I managed to sit upright. Paused. Grimaced. Groaned. Gathering more willpower then I ever knew I possessed I pushed myself to my feet. Opened my eyes. Took a slow, deep breath. And then I doubled forward until my hands were spread flat on the ground, keeping my legs spread and perfectly straight. I held the position for half a minute. Shifted until both my hands gripped my left ankle. Held that pose another thirty seconds. Brought my hands towards my other ankle.

I was four years old and sometimes it seemed I was more physically active then I'd ever been in my previous two decades combined. I was also more limber and flexible then I'd ever thought possible.

Itachi and I eventually completed our stretches, and while I was still exhausted, the previous pain had transformed into the dull ache of well exercised muscles.

So I finally did the one thing I'd been wanting to do ever since I'd been woken up.

I walked over to where father was standing. Stopped right in front of him. I craned back my neck and looked into his eyes, still so strict, still so angry.

Still so worried.

I leaned forward and embraced him tightly, my arms encircling his legs.

"I'm very happy you were home today, father." I told him, unable and unwilling to stop the bright smile I could feel growing.

I was just so incredibly overjoyed he was here, that Itachi and I had been able to spend some time with him. Even if that time had been filled with stress, panic and discomfort.

But father was _here_.

Stony obsidian eyes softened, transformed into infinite rubies without warning. His hand caressed the top of my head and I closed my eyes to savor the contact, precious sunshine bubbling through me.

I heard Itachi come closer, his arms crossing over mine as he hugged father from his other side.

"We've missed you." He confessed softly.

We had. So very much.

But father couldn't stay. His duty wouldn't let him.

We could survive without him for now. Konoha could not.

 

\---

 

The next few days I prayed constantly for father to return and take over our punishment again. Because where father was ruthless, mother was _vicious_.

Every day my twin and I ached worse than the one that came before.

And after our training mother mercilessly ordered us about, forced us to make ourselves presentable and cheerfully dragged us along on her usual routes. My twin and I were no longer left alone for even a minute.

Itachi stopped verbally updating me during the night, the both of us now sound asleep before father ever returned. Because mother pushed us through our paces not only during the morning, but also every midday and evening. She even abandoned our usual schooling, instead making us practice dodging again and again and again.

Those three days were some of the most painful of my life. The progress we made was remarkable though.

On the fourth day a messenger hawk landed on the windowsill after we'd sat down for lunch.

It carried a black seal.

Mother closed her eyes, just a moment, before forcing herself to walk over and take the scroll. She held it as if it were a venomous snake. I instantly abandoned my plate and plastered myself to Itachi's side, my twin's hand gripping mine tightly.

The hawk left as soon as the scroll was taken. Mother slowly, reluctantly, opened the announcement.

Who had we lost this time?

Mother read the scroll. Carefully closed it again. Put it down the table. Her hands clutched at her skirt. Empty eyes looked into the distance.

The silence was deafening.

Mother blinked. Released a hissed breath. Very deliberately loosened her grip. And then she came and sat down. _Behind us._

Itachi and I turned towards her in unison. My throat felt tight, tremors already beginning to run through me, both my hands now grasping at my twin, looking for support . Her reaction was the same as if she'd screamed. The one we'd lost wasn't just someone we knew and loved, it was someone special to me and Itachi. It had to be.

_Who?_

 

\---

 

We went to the funeral three days later.

Standing in the rain my Clan let the heavens draw tears across our cheeks. For once we were allowed to weep. For once we could show our grief.

Father faced us all, shoulders straight, back proud, the crushing weight on them carried with quit dignity and strength.

Once again he stood next to an empty coffin, the picture placed on it too vibrant and cheerful. A mockery. A tribute.

"Uchiha Obito was young, but he understood what it meant to be a shinobi of Konoha. Above all else he valued loyalty to his teammates, his village and his Clan. He gave his life to protect us all. He gave his life to keep us safe. He gave his life so we would not have to. We will always remember and honor that sacrifice."

He paused, took a deep breath. Acknowledged the grief, the loss. I kept my face blank as I let my tears flow freely, indistinguishable from the raindrops dripping along my cheeks. I clutched mother's hand even tighter.

"Obito was not as powerful as one would have expected of our Clan. He was impulsive, clumsy and still struggled with many of our more advanced techniques, did not activate his Sharingan until his final mission."

Soft sobs reached my ears above the falling rain, Obito's team standing next to us, Rin weeping bitter tears openly. Kakashi hadn't moved a single muscle this entire time. Kushina and Minato stood behind them, each gripping their shoulders. Trying to hold them together. Trying to hold themselves together.

"But Obito was kind. He was selfless in a way that is rarely seen, always taking the time to listen to other people's problems, always eager to help. Even when that help was not needed or even wanted. Even when his help did not always succeed in making things better."

My heart clenched, memories assaulting me, moments flashing in front of my eyes in a jumbled, chaotic mess. So many moments full of smiles and laughter. Full of happiness and joy.

"A year ago he offered my wife to look after our children. She accepted this generous offer. And when I came home that day it was to find my children covered in mud and pink glitters, giggling madly and running around undisciplined, having been given far too much sugar. Obito was chasing after them, his attire just as dirty. When I demanded an explanation he simply gave a sheepish smile and apologized for allowing them too much cookies. He did not apologize for the state our house had been turned into."

I choked.

That day Obito had shown us how to set a very simple trap that would release clouds of glitter from the pouches he'd brought with him. We had covered our entire garden with the things, had spend over an hour dodging and weaving, Itachi and I trying to maneuver Obito into springing them instead. We'd splashed through the mud, using every trick we could think of to make sure Obito had been just as covered in the sticky powder as my twin and I had been.

And after that Itachi and I had cajoled and manipulated him into always giving us just one more cookie. When the sugar rush had finally hit we'd played tag inside the living room, uncaring of the mess we were making.

Obito was gone.

"He was vibrant, stubborn and kind. But most of all, Obito possessed the ability to find the joy in life. He found it when spending time helping others, when walking down the street and observing the small happenings around him. But never was he happier then when he spend time with his teammate Nohara Rin."

The sobs next to me grew louder, the only sound above the water hitting the ground. I saw Kushina kneel from the corner of my eyes, pulling Rin into a hug. Kakashi simply stared out in front of him, not moving, no crying, not even a hint of emotion. The scar across his eye was livid and red. Minato pulled him closer.

I closed my eyes, couldn't hold them open any longer.

"Uchiha Obito was loved. He will forever be missed."

We bowed. I felt tears continuing to slip from under my lashes, heart aching, grief and guilt choking me.

Because Obito was gone. And it was all my fault.

 

\---

 

I couldn't fall asleep that night. Neither could Itachi.

We laid down across each other in silence, eyes closed, our foreheads touching, hands interwoven.

I couldn't stop remembering.

The games of ninja Obito had loved to play with us, never too busy to make some time. All the exercises he'd shown, always so willing to help us improve. His first and only attempt at cooking, nearly burning down our kitchen. The time we'd tricked him into eating onigiri filled with peppers. His expression had been so disgusted, so hilarious. His indignity and anger as he'd chased us. His bright laugh after we'd been caught.

His smile, his teasing, his hugs. They were all gone.

Obito was gone.

My breath hitched, tears once more stinging the back of my lids.

Obito was gone. I hadn't been able to stop it from happening.

Obito was still alive. Even though that shouldn't be possible. But how could I ever make people believe this was true? Prove this was not simply my grief talking?

How could Obito ever turn into the person capable of slaughtering our Clan?

Obito lived. But the boy who'd made my world a brighter place was dead.

Itachi twitched his fingers. I opened my eyes. My tears slipped free.

The moonlight was weak, only a sliver illuminating our room, shrouding my twin almost completely, nothing more than a shadow blocking my sight. I didn't need to see him to understand.

Because Obito had been the boy who'd liked to ruffle Itachi's hair, turning it into a wild mess. The one who'd simply accepted my twin's brilliance as a part of him, treating it with neither envy nor awe. The one who'd always laughed after my twin played yet another trick on him. The one who'd loved to tease Itachi back just as much.

Itachi's breath hitched.

" _Are mother and father still awake?_ " I asked, my voice not even a whisper.

" _No._ " Itachi breathed back eventually.

I bit my lip. I was mentally an adult. I'd experienced death and loss before. I'd been forced through it again and again ever since this ugly war had started. I could handle this. I could get through this.

I wanted my parents to hold me.

Pushing back with my hands until they nudged Itachi's chest, I followed my twin as he slipped out of the bed. I released one hand, kept a tight hold of the other. We crossed the floor in silence, bare feet padding soundlessly along the wood. We maneuvered without light, didn't really need it. This was our home.

Out the door, into the hallway, stopping in front of our parents' room. My twin slid open the screen.

"Father? Mother?" I asked, voice too loud to my ears. I heard the blankets shift.

"Hanako." Mother answered, a dark shape slowly sitting upright.

"Itachi. Why have you two come to our room this late at night?" The question was soft, gentle. An invitation.

Itachi and I crossed the room, crawled on the bed, laid down between our parents, the blankets already pulled back. Father was solid and warm behind me, my twin in front, mother at his other side. The blanket was pulled back up. I clutched both of Itachi's hands again, my twin's grip just as strong. I felt father shift closer, his arm covering us both. Mother embraced us from the other side.

I closed my eyes, tried to hold onto the warmth that surrounded me instead of the cold fear growing inside my heart.

Obito was gone. But my family was still here.

Obito was gone. And I hadn't been able to prevent it.

Obito was gone. One day all my family could be as well.


	11. A Burden Shared

The next day mother stayed home again.

Time continued to pass in a haze. Itachi and I went through our routines, finished our exercises. We helped mother cook, did chores around the house to keep busy, got worried over by family, had dinner. Itachi tried to read a book, I tried to create a new drawing. We both failed.

I stared at the blank page in front of me, still unable to come up with even the vaguest of notions of what to create. My mind was as empty as the paper.

I must've already been at this for over half an hour, but there hadn't been the slightest hint of inspiration. Yet, somehow, it was soothing to simply stare at the pristine white in front of me. No blemishes or faults, no distractions. Just a blank canvas, filled with infinite possibilities. If I were to start drawing, if I were to put my charcoal on it, if I were to _change_ anything...

It would be ruined. Wouldn't it?

Itachi laid his head on my shoulder, having given up on his story and sat down next to me instead. I put down my charcoal. Leaned back against him.

Obito was gone.

I closed my eyes.

We'd lost so many this last year. But although I'd known and loved each of those who'd died, although I still missed their voices, their visits and their little personal habits it wasn't...

Obito had been one of my favorites. His loss hurt _so much more._

It would be like losing Akihito, or aunt Yuna, or little Miroku. I loved my entire family, my entire Clan. But some of them I simply loved _more_. And of those I did, I'd never lost anyone. Not until now.

I embraced my twin. He hugged me back, giving me comfort, taking the comfort I offered.

Mother sat down behind us, soft rustling of cloth the only sound she made. Her hand came up to stroke my head, fingers combing through my hair. I leaned back, pulled Itachi with me. Mother's arms embraced us both.

We continued sitting there, silent, simply existing. I didn't know for how long we did. But mother didn't say anything, didn't offer any platitudes. She just kept holding us, kept us safe.

"I'm home." The voice made my head snap up, Itachi doing the same.

Father was home.

The screen slid open, father standing in the doorway, looking down at us with an unreadable expression. My throat felt tight.

Father was _home_.

"Welcome back, dear husband." Mother called out softly.

The strength of my emotions made me unable to reply. I heard Itachi's breath become the slightest bit uneven.

"Welcome back, father." My twin said, somehow sounding only slightly choked up.

"Welcome back." I couldn't manage more then a whisper.

Father kept his gaze on us as he walked forward and sat down next to mother. I slipped free from mother's arm, leaned against him instead, Itachi shifting so our hands were intertwined.

The silence returned. But it was a different silence, one that wasn't so heavy with pain and grief. Because father was here, even though it wouldn't be time for bed for at least another hour. Father was home, and I couldn't be overwhelmed by grief when my happiness was so great, almost overflowing.

Father came home. And he did so for me and Itachi. I felt a smile grow.

"I have not been able to see if you have improved your skill at evasion yet." He told us and I held back a giggle. Father sounded so _awkward_.

"I am afraid our children have not been able to complete their training these last days, dear husband." Mother answered for us, sounding so polite I was only able to detect the wryness because of long experience.

"Such a shame." Father's voice was bland, dry. And honestly, it was so incredibly inappropriate to talk like this. Obito was _gone_. And here we were, joking. It shouldn't be funny. It somehow really was. I bit my lip to stop a laugh from escaping. Itachi snorted, the sound quickly cut off.

"Perhaps we should increase their training then." Father continued, still looking at mother but somehow managing to look down at my twin and I as well. We both straightened up.

"That will not be necessary father, we have improved greatly from the training we have already received." My twin pleaded, half a jest but mostly serious.

Father turned to catch Itachi's gaze.

"Have you indeed?" He asked.

Itachi nodded solemnly.

"We have improved our skill at dodging exceptionally." Father held my twin's eyes, seemingly attempting to weigh his sincerity.

"Then I suppose there is no reason for me to test you this evening." He finally allowed.

"None at all." I answered cheekily. Father raised his brow slightly.

"I see. Unfortunately this means I will have to return to my work, I still have much to do." Even though I could hear father didn't mean it, I couldn't stop my eyes from widening.

"No!" I blurted out. Father's lips twitched just a fraction.

"There are still many other things we must improve on." Itachi immediately added, rushing through the sentence before father could say anything else.

"My, what dedicated children we have, so eager to learn." Mother injected, a laugh hidden beneath the even tone.

"Indeed. I suppose I cannot deny such a sincere request." Father answered and the worry that had gripped me – even though I knew he wouldn't leave – disappeared. "What then should I teach our children this evening, dear wife?" He asked without ever looking away from us.

Mother hummed.

"There are many things they still need to improve on. But perhaps we should ask our children themselves what they wish to practice this evening."

Father waited for our answer. I shared a look with my twin. He cocked his head and tapped his leg. I shook my head, not in the mood for anything physically extensive this evening. Instead I let my eyes flicker around the room. Itachi scrunched his nose, which surprised me, I thought my twin would enjoy a game of riddles – called observational training by our parents – but apparently not. Itachi wiggled his fingers. I smiled back. We were in agreement then.

Turning back towards father, whose eyes were so very amused right now, my twin and I answered in unity.

"Dexterity practice."

Father nodded.

"An excellent choice." He praised deadpan and mother chuckled softly as she stood and walked over towards a cupboard. Itachi and I shifted so that we were facing father. Mother returned with a long red string and sat down, completing our rectangle formation.

Taking the string, the ends knotted together, she looped it between her fingers and pulled it tight. Then, with a speed and precision that seemed almost magical, she twisted, twined, swiveled and spun the string, turning the formless loop into a complex and intriguing tree, complete with roots and branches.

Mother stretched out her hands towards father. He placed his fingers inside the loops of the formation, flicked his wrist and in one smooth movement took over the entire string and turned it into two islands linked by a bridge. He turned towards me and held out his hands.

I looked at the interwoven rope, lines and corners, every little part contributing to the whole. It was just like one of my drawings. I concentrated, searched for all the different pictures I could turn it into, taking my time. Eventually I carefully placed my fingers inside the formation, my hands so small compared to father's.

Delicately I put a little pressure on the string, curled my fingers to keep my hold, and with a sharp tug I pulled back my hands, bending and flicking my fingers quickly to form a new pattern. I looked down at the two dragonflies I'd created proudly. It had required a particularly tricky curve of my index fingers to pull off. The wings were a little uneven, but still very well done. Not bad at all.

I held out my hands towards my twin, dared him to do better with a jut of my chin. Itachi narrowed his eyes, accepting the challenge. He stared at my picture intently, different combinations flickering behind his eyes. His hands positioned themselves above, poised and ready. Slowly, he wiggled his fingers inside the labyrinthine figure, the placement awkward, fingertips stretched as far as they could go. And then he took over, flexed and curved his fingers and suddenly there was a flying bird held between his palms. He gave me a victorious look. I conceded defeat, the patterns inside those wings were notoriously difficult, our hands not really big enough to pull it off without the string escaping. But my twin had done it, even though I could see his left pinkie and ring finger tremble slightly from the awkward position he'd put them in.

We both turned back towards our parents. Mother had a slightly crooked smile curving her lips, while father was still as stoic as ever. Both their Sharingan were active. I understood the feeling completely, if I could I'd do the same.

I couldn't remember the last time all of us had simply sat down and played together like this. But right now father was here. It would only be this one evening, I knew that, so did Itachi, so did mother. It was enough.

We played cat's cradle until late into the night.

 

\---

 

The next morning aunt Yuna was there.

As mother gave us a final smile and two more soft strokes across our heads, Yuna sat down the couch in the living room, slowly and with difficulty.

Yuna was _old_.

Itachi and I watched mother's back until she closed the screen behind her and then we went and sat down in front of our aunt. She wasn't actually our aunt, more like a cousin thrice removed. But that's what we called her. She was aunt Yuna who always smelled like paper and ink. The one who's hands trembled ever so slightly when picking up something. The one who rarely left her house, her body too frail to manage any exercise for long. The one who knew every one of our family's legends and histories. The one who always knew exactly which one to tell in order to make Itachi and me feel better.

Yuna looked down at us with warm, kind eyes. Cleared her throat.

"Once upon a time there was a wandering Clan of shinobi. They were strong and proud and fierce, exceptional warriors to the last. But they were not happy. The world they lived in was cruel, full of danger and pain and loss. The Clan fought against the demons roaming the earth, against those other families skilled in the shinobi arts. They fought and bled, lived and died, loved and lost. And each loss made the Clan a little more ruthless, a little more vicious. Each loss made them hate. An endless cycle that could never be broken."

I closed my eyes as I leaned against my twin, allowed aunt Yuna's rough and scratchy voice to carry me away. To a time things had been even worse then now. To a time there had been no hope at all.

"And then there came a boy. He was a boy gifted as none had been before him. A boy who trained and hurt and bled more then any other, so that one day he could become strong enough to protect all the people precious to him. All those he had given his heart. But the boy was alone, and his enemies were not. As the years passed, the boy's loved ones were taken from him one by one, until only his brother remained by his side. The boy who had become a man swore he would never lose his brother as he had those before."

"But the world was cold and dark and cruel. The man and his brother walked the battlefields, protecting their Clan, destroying their enemies. Yet never was it enough, never did it end. Until the day came the brother was fatally injured, wounded in a way no medic could ever heal. The man who had once been a boy wept bitter tears, for he knew he would lose the last of those holding his heart. But the brother did not wish to leave his brother, did not want him lost to hate. He gifted the man his eyes, so he would never be truly alone. So the brother would always be there to protect the man, as the man had always protected him."

"The man who now possessed his brother's eyes went back to those who had taken his loved ones from him. He fought and destroyed and painted the grounds with red. But the man was alone, and his enemies were not. The man fell. He did not mind. Perhaps, the man thought, he would finally be able to reunite with all his lost loved ones. Perhaps he would finally achieve peace."

"But the leader of his enemies did not deliver the fatal blow. Instead the leader knelt and wept bitter tears for all the loved ones he himself had lost as well. For the pain and abandonment they all suffered, family and enemy alike. The leader begged the man to stop, to cease their eternal battle, to hope and reach for peace instead. And the man said he could not. The man told the leader no peace was possible, too much blood had been spilled, too much pain had been caused. The man told the leader he would never be able to achieve his dream, not unless he was willing to prove he could sacrifice that which was most important to him. The man offered the leader a choice. Take the life of your own brother, he said, prove to me you understand the weight of loss. If you cannot, then take your own life instead. Prove to me you would die to make your dream come true. "

"And the leader understood. The leader agreed. On that battlefield soaked with blood he took his own blade and aimed it at his heart."

"I would die so no other would ever have to suffer the pain and loss we both have, the leader said, I would die so others could live."

"And the man rose, put his hand across the blade, did not allow the leader to sacrifice himself."

"Stop, the man said, it is enough."

"And so the man, who'd once been a boy, who possessed his brother's eyes, made peace with the leader, who'd once been an enemy, who understood the value of life."

"The two Clans united, worked together and were no longer alone. And because they were no longer alone, they were able to become strong. Strong enough to defend their loved ones, strong enough to create a home. They drove off the demons that sought to destroy them, fought those who wished them harm, welcomed those who dreamed of peace."

"The dark times passed. The cycle was broken. Peace had been achieved."

 

\---

 

Akihito dragged us outside later that afternoon, even when Itachi and I did not want to. Even when we protested all the way to our usual training grounds.

"You can't keep yourself locked inside forever." He'd told us with a dirty look, and then he'd pushed Itachi down into the mud.

This meant war.

By the time we returned home Itachi and I were so covered in filth mother wouldn't even allow us inside, instead wrapping us in towels so we wouldn't drip on the floor and taking us straight to the bathroom. It took over an hour for mother to get us clean, and I don't think our clothes would ever recover from The Battle Of Mud.

Somehow the ache inside my heart hurt a little less.

 

\---

 

The next few days people continued to check up on Itachi and me. But they did so in that understated way the Uchiha had. It was obvious they were here for us, but somehow most of them managed to act as though it was a complete coincidence.

In the mornings there would always be someone to watch over Itachi and me when mother went out, and in the afternoon every family member who visited somehow managed to spend some time exclusively on my twin and I. Akihito and others our age kept dragging us outside to play.

I loved my Clan so much.

It helped. It made the pain bearable, allowed my twin and I to heal.

It made my fear grow larger every day. I couldn't lose these people, my family. I just couldn't.

 

\---

 

On the sixth day Itachi and I were finally left alone again. For the next hour or two at least.

I didn't mind, this last week we'd been constantly looked after. But although Itachi and I had loved Obito more then some, we had not loved him most. There were others who needed comfort far more then we did.

There were others who'd lost parents and spouses, siblings and children. Compared to that, what was the pain of losing "only" a favorite cousin?

But our Clan had looked after us anyway. Because that was what Clan did. They looked after each other.

Even if it didn't always help.

 _'Do you think they'll find Masaki before she reaches the border?'_ My twin asked silently, mostly just to talk about it, to get it off his chest. We both knew it didn't matter.

 _'Depends on how many people they send after her. She's a civilian and hasn't activated her Sharingan, so they probably won't send a lot of them. But she's an Uchiha. If she's careful she'll get there.'_ I silently answered him.

Itachi had overheard the previous night that Masaki, Obito's grandmother, had gone rogue. It didn't happen often to civilians, most of the time they managed to work through their grief better then shinobi did. Or at least in a less destructive way. Perhaps it had something to do with whether or not they'd activated their Sharingan, but that was only an idle theory I had.

Sometimes civilians still turned rogue though. Itachi and I couldn't ask our parents about it, because the only way we could even know what that term meant when applied to an Uchiha would be if we'd spied on their conversations.

From what we'd managed to piece together, an Uchiha was only called a rogue – not a missing-nin, traitor or deserter, but a _rogue_ – if they snapped after the loss of a loved one.

And judging by the things we'd overhead, the implication was clear. An Uchiha who went rogue died in the eyes of our Clan. Any rogue Uchiha was to be killed on sight. Our parents had never said so specifically, but the fact their funerals always happened a few days later, the talk of shinobi send after them, yet the lack of any mention of those ninja finding and returning with their target, could only mean this one thing.

And knowing what I did now, living with the Uchiha, understanding them... I couldn't say it was wrong – _it wasn't_ _right_ – Because when an Uchiha snapped like that, when they cut all ties and only desired revenge at all cost...

There was a reason Uchiha Madara was an example of both our greatest strength and our greatest weakness.

 _'But the ninja who killed Obito are all dead.'_ My twin said, and I could see his desperation, his childish hope that Masaki, who'd always welcomed us into her home with gentle teasing, could still be saved. I could also see he didn't really think that was still possible. But he wanted to believe it was.

 _'I don't think that matters to her. They were from Hidden Rock, and Hidden Rock still exists.'_ I wouldn't lie to my twin. I didn't have to.

The war had made us both familiar with death and loss. With revenge. With the atrocities a rogue Uchiha could commit. In many ways it was a blessing Masaki was a civilian. It limited the damage she could inflict upon the world.

My twin pursed his lips, body language agitated and upset. I sighed and uncrossed my legs, stretching them so they touched his knee instead.

" _Obito was the only one she had left."_ I said it out loud, made sure to keep my voice as soft and gentle as I could.

It was an excuse that should never even have been an excuse but somehow still was.

My twin frowned and let out a deep sigh. He understood that intellectually, had overheard it happening too often not to. It wasn't enough to make him understand emotionally. And I prayed to every one of the Ancestors he never would.

" _That doesn't make it right. She still had us."_

That was the part Itachi couldn't forgive. I couldn't either. Because to Masaki, our family wasn't enough. What my twin said was true, it wasn't right, wasn't in any way justified. It was _weak_. She abandoned our Clan the moment she decided revenge for the dead was more important then caring for the living.

The worst part was I knew I would react exactly the same if I were to ever lose Itachi.

I closed my own eyes and tilted back my head.

Masaki had snapped because her beloved grandson, the last of her immediate family, had been taken from her.

And it had happened because of me. Because I hadn't stopped it from happening, even when I'd _known_ it would.

Itachi tapped my legs. I opened my eyes and looked back at my twin, his gaze as gentle as mine had been only moments before.

" _It wasn't your fault."_ He said.

I couldn't help the bitter twist of my lips. Of course it was.

Itachi let out a huff, giving me a look.

" _Just because you knew what was going to happen doesn't mean you were responsible for it. You tried to warn him. Obito didn't listen."_

…

What?

I blinked stupidly at my twin, my mind screeching to a halt. He... that couldn't mean what I thought it did. Right? No, that was impossible. I'd never said anything, never even hinted, I'd been so careful.

How could he know?

My thoughts must've been clear, because Itachi _rolled his eyes at me_.

" _It wasn't difficult to figure out."_ The little troll was actually mocking me. As if I were the one being stupid by being surprised.

I opened my mouth. Closed it. Blinked again.

Itachi raised a brow.

" _How?"_ I couldn't actually manage anything more then that.

" _You told Obito he was going to get crushed by rocks if Rin was ever kidnapped. We overheard Kushina tell mother what happened. Rin got kidnapped, and Obito"_ His breath hitched. _"Obito died because of a collapsing cave, by being crushed by rocks. So it follows that you knew it was going to happen."_

" _Lots of people are getting killed by being crushed underneath rocks, we're fighting Hidden Rock after all."_   What was I doing? Why was I trying to convince him it was a coincidence? Why was I using Obito's jokingly said counterargument?

" _Yes, but you talked about it as if it were a specific event. You knew it would happen."_

My breath caught, throat too tight. It was true. I'd known. And I'd _let it happen_.

Itachi poked the sole of my foot. I twitched, attention diverted briefly and I curled my legs on reflex, giving my twin a dirty look. I hated being tickled.

" _It's not your fault. It's nobody's fault except for the ninja who attacked them. You're not responsible for their actions, only for your own."_

Sometimes Itachi was wiser then I thought possible. In this case he was completely right. I was responsible for no one's actions but my own. And it had been my inaction that had gotten Obito killed.

No, not killed. Something far worse than mere death.

Itachi poked the bottom of my foot again. This time I shifted until my feet were safely hidden away under my knees.

" _It's not your fault Hana-chan."_

I sighed.

" _That's nice of you to say, Ita-chan. But I should've been able to prevent it from happening in the first place."_

My twin narrowed his eyes, gave me another exasperated look.

" _How?"_

The question made me blink in confusion again.

" _How could you have stopped it?"_ He asked again, more forcefully.

" _I should've made Obito believe me."_ I told him, bewildered I had to explain this, it was so obvious.

" _And how would you have done that? You tried to tell him, more then once. And he didn't believe you. How could you have changed his mind?"_ Itachi was stubborn, convinced he was right. So was I. I jutted out my chin.

" _Then I should've told Kakashi, or Rin, or Kushina, or Minato."_

" _But would they have believed you?"_ The question made me pause.

Because the answer was no. They would never have believed these weren't the ramblings of a four year old child scarred by war, desperately scared she'd lose one of her most beloved cousins as well. Not until it was already too late.

It was for this reason I'd kept quiet. Because what did it matter I knew the future if I couldn't prove I did? Without proof no one would listen to me.

And yes, I could let a Yamanaka read my mind, but...

Then Danzo would know too.

And even reading my mind, would they have believed me? Or would they declare me insane instead? Would they take me away from my family?

Would they execute my entire Clan because of what I knew?

That wasn't a risk I could ever take. Yet at the same time, my fear had stopped me from changing Obito's fate.

Itachi let out a disgusted sound.

" _I can **see** you blaming yourself. Stop it!"_ My twin was really annoyed by this.

But I couldn't help it. If I didn't take responsibility, who would?

Itachi stood.

Confused, I watched as my twin moved forward and knelt in front of me, leaning his forehead against mine. His eyes were still open, so close it was hard to focus on them. I did anyway.

"Hanako." My twin said, serious, solemn and absurdly hilarious because of his almost crossed eyes. "You. Are. Not. At. Fault."

Every word was emphasized and bitten out. It was sweet how convinced he was. I wasn't.

Itachi narrowed his eyes. And then he leaned back and hit the back of my head with a firm smack. Ouch. My hand came up to rub the spot he'd hit, not hard enough to hurt, but certainly hard enough to be felt.

"Stop being so stupid, I know you're not. You tried. That is enough." My twin's voice was pure annoyance. His conviction was nice to hear. But it wasn't true.

Because I hadn't tried nearly hard enough. In fact, I almost hadn't tried at all.

Itachi gave me a hurt look. My priorities immediately shifted.

"You don't believe me?" His voice was so small.

I wanted to assure him that of course I did, but... I couldn't lie to him.

Itachi's eyes became even sadder.

My desire to make him happy grew. Was he really wrong? Couldn't he be right? Maybe... maybe it wasn't my fault?

Except I'd _known_. How could it ever _not_ be my fault?

Itachi's lower lip began to tremble. My eyes narrowed.

"You're faking it." I accused him. Part of me was affronted he'd tried that on me. Another part was impressed and proud of how close he'd come to succeeding.

My twin sighed, previous sadness falling away instantly.

"It was worth trying." He said, completely unapologetic.

I didn't know whether to congratulate him or smack him as he'd done me. I decided on neither.

" _The fact is, I knew what would happen. And I didn't stop it."_ I switched languages again, this was too sensitive a subject not too.

My twin in turn gave me a deadpan look.

" _So?"_

We weren't ever going to agree on this, I could tell.

" _Do you know anything else that's going to happen? Something bad?"_ The question made me choke on air. I stared at my twin with wide eyes, wondering where the hell this was coming from.

" _You do."_ He was deeply satisfied by that, looking like the cat who'd gotten the canary.

" _Why do you want to know?"_ My voice was wary, a completely understandable reaction.

My twin answered with one of the most smug expressions I'd ever seen him make.

" _Because we're going to prevent it from happening. Then you won't feel guilty about Obito anymore."_

I was torn between laughing hysterically or maybe crying. It was hard to tell.

" _That's not how it works, Ita-chan."_

My twin simply raised a brow.

" _We'll see."_ He said, carefully neutral and still radiating supreme confidence in his own conclusion.

" _So what's going to happen?"_ He continued before I could argue the point again. I was conflicted. Should I tell him or not? He was a genius, he could help. He was only four years old, still so innocent. He was living a war, already understood realities no child ever should. He shouldn't ever be burdened by knowledge as terrible as this.

He was Itachi. How could I not tell him if he wanted to know?

" _The Nine-tails is going to attack Konoha and Kushina and Minato will die sealing it away."_ I confessed, words spilling forth and oh. Oh.

Suddenly I felt so much _lighter_ , a weight I hadn't been aware of lifting. I laughed, couldn't help it, couldn't stop.

I'd told someone. I'd told Itachi. And he _believed_ me.

I laughed and laughed and it wasn't funny, it was awful, I needed to stop this from ever happening and _I couldn't stop laughing_.

Itachi looked at me with wide, horrified eyes and I laughed even harder, tears escaping, voice turning hysterical.

My twin surged forward, hugged me tight and I clutched him back as hard as I could and still I laughed – _why couldn't I stop laughing?_

And suddenly I wasn't laughing anymore, I was crying and sobbing and Kushina couldn't die, I couldn't let it happen, please, oh gods _please_ , I couldn't lose her!

My twin rubbed my back, movements gentle, began to hum a song as I cried and cried, unable to stop my tears. I gripped him even closer, desperate for his presence, his comfort.

_Please, please, pleasepleasenotKushinaplease._

I don't know how long we sat there, me lost in a whirlwind of conflicting emotions, Itachi the only stability I still had. But eventually the tears stopped, sobs turning into small sniffles.

All that was left was the feeling of being empty, wrung out. And above else there was relief.

I lifted my head, released one sleeve covered hand to wipe at the snot running from my nose and then the tears still clinging to my lashes. Itachi stopped his singing, gave me a worried look. I managed a very wobbly smile back.

"Thank you." Thank you for listening, for believing me, for being here.

Itachi wiped the wetness on my cheeks away, gave a small smile just as wobbly as my own had been. And then his expression changed, turned fierce and unyielding.

" _We're going to stop it."_ He said. No, not said, _declared_. As if by saying it, it was the only possible reality there was. As if the future would change just because he said so.

It made me hope.

" _We are?"_ My voice was soft, wistful. I wanted to believe him so badly.

" _We are. You and me, we're not going to allow it to happen. We'll stop it and Kushina is not going to die."_ His eyes pierced mine, blazing with conviction, every line of him expressing his complete faith and utter certainty.

I sniffled again, my heart aching in the best way possible.

We were going to stop Kushina from dying. She was going to live and be happy with Minato and be a fantastic mother to Naruto and Naruto was going to have a wonderful childhood and our Clan was never going to be put under suspicion and Danzo was never going to destroy us.

We were going to make things _better_.

 


	12. Planning The Future

It took some time to regain my center after that emotional outburst, but with Itachi's help I managed.

 _'So when is the Nine-tails going to attack?'_ My twin silently asked after I'd calmed down.

Of course he started with one of the most difficult questions.

 _'I don't know, not exactly. But it'll happen the night Kushina gives birth.'_ I mouthed towards him and watched as Itachi's eyes went wide.

 _'Kushina and Minato are going to have a child?'_ He looked so surprised, it was hilarious. I giggled.

_'Yes they are. He's going to look like Minato but act like Kushina. And his name is going to be Naruto.'_

Itachi snorted, bemused.

 _'They're going to name their son fish cake? No, wait, this is Kushina's child. It's spelled like_ whirlpool _, isn't it?'_

I'd never really thought about it, but seeing as his mother was Kushina... yeah, there really wasn't any other option.

 _'Most likely.'_ I allowed. _"And it's called whirlpool."_ I translated immediately as well, out loud to make sure he got the nuances. Itachi gave a small smile.

 _'He sounds great.'_ My very awesome twin kept our conversation silent, understanding the need for secrecy.

 _'He will be.'_ The lack of sound made it more difficult to convey emotions, but I tried to project my complete and utter confidence of this fact. Judging by Itachi's grin I succeeded. But then he turned serious once more.

_'So why is the Nine-tails going to attack?'_

I chewed my lips, ordering my thoughts.

_'The Nine-tails is sealed inside Kushina. And I think the seal is weaker during childbirth, but I'm not completely sure of that. All I'm certain of is that they're going to be attacked by a man who calls himself Tobi. He's going to release the Nine-tails and use it to attack Hidden Leaf and Minato will use a technique to seal it inside Naruto. But the technique requires his own life as a sacrifice. As for Kushina... I think the Nine-tails can't be sealed in her again, which is why it's going to be sealed in Naruto. But she can't survive without the Nine-tails, it's been connected to her chakra system for too long.'_

My twin stared. Blinked slowly. Stared some more.

When put like that, it sounded incredibly far-fetched. He didn't seem disbelieving though, only shocked.

Which was odd now that I actually thought about it. He shouldn't be this accepting, right?

 _'Why do you believe me?_ ' The silent question pulled my twin from his thoughts.

 _'Why shouldn't I?'_ He countered easily.

 _'Because it's weird for me to know all this?'_ I was both bewildered and incredibly grateful for his easy acceptance.

Itachi gave me a look.

 _'You're Hana-chan. You always know weird things.'_ He looked so perfectly matter of fact. Warmth raced through me, along with amusement at his childish logic. Mostly warmth and gratitude though. Itachi's unwavering faith was a priceless gift.

 _'Thank you.'_ My answer made Itachi chuckle. But he quickly grew serious again. I could almost hear his brain working now that the first shock has passed.

 _'Why does the Nine-tails attack Konoha though?'_ He settled on asking, making me raise a brow. I would've thought that was one of the most evident things about this whole mess.

_'Tobi orders him to.'_

My twin hummed, leaned forward, hands underneath his chin.

 _'The only one who has ever been able to control the Nine-tails was our honored Ancestor Madara.'_ He gave me a shrewd look. And that was indeed a very valid point, one I hadn't thought important because, well, because I already knew Madara was indeed involved.

 _'It's not Madara. Not exactly.'_ I answered the unspoken question. But I hesitated to continue, even though Itachi kept looking at me expectantly. The truth would hurt him. Yet I couldn't lie to him.

And we'd heard of enough Uchiha snapping already. I knew my twin could handle this, no matter how painful.

 _'Tobi is actually Obito.'_ I finally articulated. Itachi reeled back as if slapped.

" _Obito is dead."_ It was barely a whisper yet it made me flinch. My eyes tried to flicker away from his betrayed look, but I forced them steady. I owed my twin that courage.

 _'He's not. He survived the falling rocks, though I don't know how. But... I think something is going to happen. Or already has. I think Obito is going to snap. He's going to turn insane and... he won't be Obito anymore. He'll be Tobi.'_ If I could've I would've made my voice as soft as I could. But the risk of anyone overhearing was too great.

So instead I shuffled forward until I could embrace my twin. I could offer that small comfort at least.

Itachi stayed silent, still looking so hurt and betrayed. It was painful to watch, even when I knew the emotions weren't aimed at me. My twin closed his eyes, took deep, calming breaths as he leaned into my embrace.

The silence stretched.

Eventually he opened his eyes again and shifted his head so I could read his lips once more.

 _'Then what does Ancestor Madara have to do with all this?'_ Because of course Itachi would pick up on that.

 _'I'm pretty sure he's the one who found Obito. He's still alive, but he's old and weak. He has this insane plan to put the entire world under an illusion to create world peace, and he needs all the Tailed Beasts to do that. But he's not strong enough to pull it off himself, not anymore. So Obito does it for him.'_ Most of that came from knowledge without any concrete memories. But I still had an anime picture in my head of Madara sitting next to that creepy statue, connected to it, looking old and feeble.

And Obito sitting in front of him, still happy and carefree.

 _'Coudn't that mean Madara is controlling Obito?'_ My twin's eyes were so desperately hopeful. I hated having to destroy it.

 _'No. Maybe... maybe at the beginning, but in the end it was Obito's choice to continue.'_ Because I also still remembered very blurry scenes from the final battle where a grown up Obito, his face twisted and scarred, utterly mocked and ridiculed Naruto and his dreams. I even had the vague knowledge that it would be Madara – or more accurately, Tobi – who would manipulate Hidden Mist into becoming even more bloody than it already was.

More then that, as horrible as my conclusion was, Obito going insane simply fit. Not just with the plot of the manga, but also with what I now knew of our Clan in general.

It was the only way I could understand him turning evil.

Itachi hugged me even harder, closing his eyes again. In many ways this was even worse then hearing Kushina would die. At least her ghost wouldn't haunt us like this, no matter what would happen.

So I gave my twin the time he needed.

Eventually I felt him release another deep sigh, his breath tickling my neck. He pushed at me slightly and I shifted until I could see his lips clearly again.

_'The Nine-tails is going to attack Konoha. Because of Ob-Tobi. So how do we stop it?'_

There was only determination on his face, expression resolute and unyielding.

It made me groan.

 _'I don't know.'_ I admitted, feeling as frustrated and helpless as always. Because while my knowledge may come from fiction, this was real life. And it was so much more complicated then simply going to our parents and telling them everything.

Even though I wished with all my heart it wasn't.

But I couldn't fool myself into thinking our parents would ever believe me. They'd need proof I simply couldn't offer.

Much more likely, they'd believe I'd fallen victim to a genjutsu, our enemies trying to weaken the Village by targeting the daughter of the leader of the Military Police Force. Which, given that we were at war, would not be an unreasonable assumption. And that was only if they didn't believe I'd had a mental break, a four year old scarred by too much death. Especially given the fact I often told my twin made up stories, my Disney fueled fantasy always a source of amusement to our parents.

I didn't believe either father or mother would ever turn me over to the Yamanaka out of fear _of_ me. But turning me over out of fear _for_ me? That was a very real possibility. And not one I could ever allow to happen.

Because while I knew with complete certainty my parents would never hurt me, my fears about the Third were _completely_ justified. He'd ordered the slaughter of my Clan once – or will anyway – which meant he could do it again. And if my own Clan could be so ruthless towards our own family when one of us went rogue, how much worse would the leader responsible for the good of the entire Village react?

Not to mention what Danzo might do with this information.

So, telling anyone other than my parents was definitely out. And if I told my parents, I'd have to somehow convince them I wasn't crazy or being manipulated. However, even if I did succeed in doing that, keeping me away from the Yamanaka's or the Third's clutches would mean my parents couldn't tell anyone in any way that would implicate me. Which meant they wouldn't have any proof, something ninja were never fond of, what with living in a society that actively encouraged paranoia.

And even if I managed to convince them, even if my parents did manage to warn people. If the attack still happened...

In the manga my Clan would come under suspicion because Madara was the only one who'd ever been able to control the Nine-tails. It was logical to fear someone from my Clan had rediscovered that same power.

How much worse would that suspicion be if it was known beforehand the Clan head knew the attack was going to happen? What would the Third do with such seemingly damning proof my Clan was involved?

These were very valid fears, I couldn't fool myself into believing they weren't.

Yet I had to try. I couldn't simply sit by and let this happen. Which mean I had to find a way to convince my parents, because I honestly didn't believe Itachi or I would ever be able to prevent it on our own. We needed our parents' knowledge and experience, no matter the risk. Even if.. even if they'd decide there wasn't anything we could do except warn Kushina and Minato directly.

All of which was useless speculation if my twin and I couldn't find a way to make our parents believe me. I just didn't know how to do that without raising suspicion.

Groaning again, I opened my eyes, not even having noticed I'd closed them. Itachi was looking up at the ceiling, a frown on his face and hands now held in front of his mouth, clasped together. But he tilted his head back down at my movements.

 _'I got nothing.'_ I told him, my frustration needing no sound.

My twin pursed his lips and lowered his hands.

 _'You don't think we can simply tell our parents, do you?'_ The question made me sigh.

_'No. They would sooner believe we are being manipulated by our enemies then think we're telling the truth.'_

_'But you could let your mind be read. Isn't that what the Yamanaka are capable of?'_ It was gratifying my twin seemed to be one the same wavelength as me. I simply had more information about the factors involved.

 _'That can't happen. The Third can't find out about this, there's too much risk.'_ My answer resulted in a very strange look.

 _'Why? He's the leader of our Village, he'd do everything he can to protect us.'_ My eyes tried to shift towards the ceiling before I could stop them. It was only a fraction of a movement but it made Itachi narrow his eyes.

_'Wouldn't he Hana-chan?'_

I kept quiet. I couldn't tell him he might one day be responsible for the destruction of our entire Clan. Yes it was on the Third's orders, but it was Itachi who would actually carry it out.

That was knowledge no child should ever be burdened with. I knew I had a tendency to treat Itachi as my equal, and in many ways he was. He was also a four year old child. I forgot that too often.

This was one instance where I couldn't ever allow myself to forget.

 _'There are other factors involved besides the Third.'_ I eventually hedged, dodging the truth. But of course Itachi knew me too well for that to work.

 _'Other factors such as more knowledge about the future?'_ My twin was much too sharp for his own good. I grabbed his hands, squeezed them tight.

"Itachi." I used his full name to show how serious I was. ' _My mind can not ever be read. Do you understand? It can't. The consequences... the risk is too high.'_

My twin's eyes pierced mine, weighing my sincerity, so I continued to try to impress the absolute importance of this. I couldn't, _couldn't_ risk my entire Clan. Not even for Kushina.

 _'Why?'_ He asked eventually, and I breathed a sigh of relief as I saw him accept the gravity of my warning.

 _'Ask me again when you're older.'_ The silent answer earned me an incredibly dirty look. And then it became a hurt one.

 _'Don't you trust me?'_ I wasn't going to fall for that one again.

 _'I trust you more than I trust myself.'_ I told him honestly, the hurt magically disappearing and my twin now glowing instead.

 _'But I still won't tell you. Not yet. You're too young.'_ And the dirty look was back.

 _'That's not fair, I'm older than you.'_ I burst out laughing, couldn't help it. Itachi's affronted expression only made me giggle even louder. It took effort to still my expression and articulate clearly.

 _'Biologically speaking you are.'_ Even silent I'm sure my mirth still shone through. My twins eyes went wide, then narrowed once again.

 _'So why are you older mentally?'_ Much too sharp for his own good.

I pursed my lips, debating briefly on answering. But honestly, there was no danger in telling him. I didn't even fear he wouldn't believe me, not anymore. How could I, after his easy acceptance of my future knowledge?

 _'I wasn't always Hanako.'_ I told him and watched as he cocked his head, confusion in his eyes.

 _'What do you mean?'_ I'd managed to surprise him so much he didn't even have any theories. I probably shouldn't be as proud of that as I was.

 _'I remember living another life before I was born as Uchiha Hanako. I had a different family and a different life, and I was already an adult. I died and –'_ The choked sound Itachi let out interrupted my explanation, immediately making me look him over in worry.

Itachi stared with me with wide, horrified eyes.

" _You died?"_ The sentence was high and shrill, so unlike my twin. I smiled, understanding his reaction and relieved it was only that.

" _I got better."_ My reassurance did not help him calm down. So I shifted until I could hug him once more. The desperate way he gripped me back made me go over our conversation again. And I realized I really shouldn't have said that so callously. It made it sound cold, uncaring and cruel.

Itachi was four. I was his twin.

But I hadn't meant for it to sound like that. It's just I'd gotten over my past, it didn't hurt me, not anymore. I still missed the people I'd lost of course, part of me always would. Yet I knew that if given the choice to go back, I wouldn't take it. This was my home, my family, my life. I was happy here, despite all the dangers and worry I now struggled with.

I could never give up Itachi.

" _You're not allowed to die."_ Itachi commanded me and I pulled back so I could look into his eyes. The utter fear they showed broke my heart.

" _I won't."_ I promised him.

It was an impossible vow, life was too unpredictable, I knew that better then anyone. I would try to the best of my abilities though, do whatever needed in order to survive. All for one simple reason. _"But you're not allowed either."_

Because while it was an impossible vow, I needed Itachi to promise me this as well.

My twin's every line turned tense, eyes burning like black fire.

" _I promise I won't die as long as you don't either."_ My breath hitched. Somehow this was exactly what I needed to hear, even when I knew it wasn't in any way realistic. Even when I realized this was so incredibly unhealthy.

" _Pinkie promise?"_ I was able to get out, my voice unsteady.

Itachi brought up his hand, extended his pinkie. I linked it with my own.

" _The both of us will stay alive."_ He swore, a feverish glint inside those bottomless eyes. This was wrong on so many levels.

" _The both of us will stay alive."_ I repeated and shook our linked fingers.

It didn't matter how impossible, unrealistic or unhealthy. The vow was sealed.

Honestly, sometimes I managed to forget just how much this war had affected me. Times like these it was impossible to deny.

How much worse must it be for Itachi, who'd almost never known any different?

My twin let out a strangled sound, the only recognizable emotion relief, and then he surged forward, embracing me tightly once again. I hugged him back just as hard. He was here, he was alive, he was safe.

It was enough.

I don't know how long we sat there, but we were abruptly pulled back to reality by a voice.

"I'm home." Mother's voice greeted us, making me jerk my head up, almost hitting Itachi's as he did the same. We shared a panicked look, both of us still looking like a wreck.

There was no way she wouldn't notice something was up.

"Welcome back!" I managed to squeak out, still holding on to my twin.

"Welcome back." Itachi repeated after me, somehow managing to sound a lot more composed.

Mother entered the living room, took one look at us and immediately crossed over, sitting down next to us. Worry shone from her eyes.

"What is wrong, my dear ones?" She asked and my mind blanked.

We couldn't tell her what we'd been talking about, but she'd know if we were lying.

"It is of no importance mother." Itachi said, which was obviously not something that was going to work. Mother's eyes narrowed a fraction, confirming she wouldn't let this slip.

"Seeing as both my children are so upset, it is obviously of great importance." Her voice was both soft yet strict at the same time. Gentle, but demanding an explanation as well. An explanation we couldn't give.

What to do? What to say? I resolutely did not look at my twin. That would make it much too obvious we were hiding something.

"We were talking about Obito." Itachi said, making me jerk my head towards him. What was he doing?

"And... and we were scared." My twin's eyes turned towards his lap and oh! That was brilliant.

I finally allowed myself to bite my lip and lowered my own eyes. I didn't have to lie, the truth was enough.

"What if Itachi dies as well?" My question was barely a whisper, my arms tightening around my twin without any conscious input.

"What if Hanako does?" Itachi immediately followed, choked up once more and gripping me back just as hard.

For a moment mother did not say anything at all. But the silence was neither accusing nor tense, instead it was full of almost tangible shock. And then her arms came around us, pulling the both of us in her lap, holding us close.

"That will not happen." Her voice was harsher than I'd ever heard and I glanced up through my lashes. Mother's expression was one I'd never seen before, hard and utterly unyielding, Sharingan spinning madly. So full of barely hidden fear.

"You will grow to be so strong no one will ever be able to defeat you. You will be _safe_." And I knew that wasn't realistic either. Even the strongest could fall, all it took was a single mistake. But just as I'd needed to hear Itachi's promise, mother seemed to need this said out loud as well. To convince herself it was the only possible truth.

She hugged us tighter.

Her reaction was so very reassuring and soothing. And I didn't feel any guilt, even though I knew our words had hurt her. Because it was an unavoidable hurt. We might not have told the whole truth, but our fear was real. So was mother's.

The possibility we could lose one another might be incredibly small right now, but that didn't mean it wasn't there. It would do no one any good to not acknowledge it.

No matter how painful that truth was.

 

\---

 

Of course, the problem after this was that Itachi and I couldn't talk about the future anymore, not as long as we weren't completely alone. And our admission seemed to have caused a greater fear in mother than I could have ever expected, because the next few days she didn't seem capable of letting us out of her sight.

Then again, I had trouble letting go of Itachi as well. I'd underestimated the impact the conversation would have on me as well. Of course, the few times I managed to put even a little distance – physically speaking – between my twin and I, Itachi always immediately closed it back up. He was just as affected as I was, maybe even more.

And mother must've told father what had happened as well, because for the first time I awoke to a gentle hand carefully cradling my head, my bleary sight barely making out a tall figure in the dark. I fell asleep again almost immediately after, but Itachi later told me he'd awoken to the same gesture as well. It seemed to have become father's new routine, a small touch given in the early hours before leaving. I'd known he'd always taken a moment to watch us before leaving, but now he seemed to need an even greater reassurance we were still there.

The fact Masaki's funeral was only two days later only served to make their reactions even worse.

I didn't like seeing my parents like this. Neither did Itachi. So my twin and I went with mother on her rounds without complaint and we made sure to keep all our activities in her line of vision, whether these were reading, drawing, playing with our cousins or telling stories.

It wasn't necessary, mother could easily keep track of us as long as we were within her vicinity. But it seemed to keep her calm and relaxed.

Mother got over her irrational fear much sooner than we did though. Or at the very least learned to live with it. Because on the sixth day we finally managed to convince her to let us stay home alone again, just a little while, mostly by promising we'd continue training.

Our routines had become markedly more difficult and intense.

Even then we only succeeded by subtly pointing out all her attention was a little smothering. And by that I mean my twin and I succeeded in being hilariously obvious. The mirth in mother's eyes said loud and clear what she thought of our "subtle" attempts. Mission accomplished.

And she conceded our request as well.

So the moment we were sure we were alone again, Itachi and I sat down the couch, ready to continue our planning. Part of me suspected there was someone keeping a discreet watch on us, but if they were it's not like Itachi or I were good enough to notice them.

I was incredibly grateful for father's teachings about lipreading.

 _'What can we do to stop the attack from happening?'_ I silently opened the conversation, getting right to the heart of the matter, determined to come up with an actual plan this time.

 _'Tell mother and father.'_ Itachi immediately replied. I raised my brow. While it was clear my twin had been thinking about this as much as I had, I couldn't for the life of me understand how he'd come to that conclusion. But he continued before I could question him.

_'They won't believe us without proof. So you'll tell them Kushina will get pregnant and have a son named Naruto. And have them promise they won't tell Kushina or Minato before they themselves confess. Then after that happens mother and father will believe you when you tell them about the Nine-tails.'_

That was... not a bad plan actually. Simple yet effective.

And once more it was something glaringly obvious now that it had been said out loud – in a manner of speaking – And it made me feel so incredibly frustrated, the desire to smack myself almost irresistible.

I now regretted not telling our parents about Obito even more. While it wouldn't have prevented his death – Tobi was _not_ my cousin – it would've created an opening where they could've believed me if I told them about the Kyuubi. And while I'd considered that option before, my fear had made me discard it.

I really needed to work on that, I couldn't keep affording being so blinded by emotions.

The problem now was that while Obito's specific circumstances would've been a very good indicator of me telling the truth, Kushina's pregnancy was something anyone could randomly guess. She and Minato had been together for a long time after all. It was only Naruto's name which was a credible prediction.

Alone the knowledge wasn't enough. Combined with Obito's death it could've been. But it was too late for that now, if we wanted to succeed I needed some other predictions no one else could guess.

Unfortunately the manga had never talked about this time period in depth, all my future knowledge was centered on events thirteen years after Naruto's birth.

Not to mention all my knowledge was not only flawed to begin with, but I also couldn't entirely trust it anymore. And that wasn't just because I felt like I was forgetting things. More and more I was becoming uncertain of the details, doubting which were true and which were simply theories and conclusions my mind had unwittingly created using knowledge about this world I hadn't had before. Often I couldn't tell the difference anymore.

… But I still knew of one other thing that would happen with complete certainty.

 _'We're going to have a little brother.'_ I blurted, only barely remembering to keep my voice silent.

Sasuke was the second main character, his birth was something I was completely sure of. And I still had an anime style picture in my mind of a young Itachi taking care of him the night the Kyuubi attacked, so I knew for sure he was older than Naruto as well.

Itachi blinked, face blank. Then a small, bewildered frown appeared, his head cocked.

 _'We are?'_ I could almost hear the incredulity. It made me grin.

_'We are. His name is going to be Sasuke and he's going to be a little older than Naruto, a month to almost a year at most.'_

My twin seemed to have trouble processing this. Which was strange to witness, knowing what I did. He was going to adore our little brother. And I was pretty sure I would as well.

It was funny, I'd never particularly liked Sasuke in the manga. The longer I'd read on, the more his behavior had grown to irritate me. In the end I couldn't manage even one more shred of sympathy for him.

But knowing what I did now, realizing just what he'd lost, what he'd been forced through when he couldn't have been more than eight at most...

I understood completely why he'd turned out the way he had. Our parents would've called him a rogue.

And that was not even taking into account the fact he'd been mentally tortured in the most cruel way possible. Twice. Is is any wonder he broke?

But that wasn't going to happen this time. Itachi wouldn't do that to him – to our Clan – and so Sasuke was going to turn out completely different. If I told myself that often enough, it was sometimes possible to almost suppress all my hidden doubts and fears. Almost.

Instead I tried to focus on the good things instead. Such as gaining a little brother, a small person for me and my twin to love, cherish, protect and spoil. It was one of the things I was looking forward to most.

I'd adored being a big sister in my previous life.

 _'A little brother.'_ The silence served to make Itachi seem even more bewildered then he actually was. I bumped his shoulder.

 _'A very cute little brother.'_ I clarified and felt my grin grow at Itachi's own beginning smile. But he visibly forced himself to turn serious again.

_'So you'll predict our little brother's birth as well. Do you know anything else that will happen, no matter how small?'_

I was very grateful he'd managed to not be distracted. It kept me on track as well. Time seemed much more precious now than it had before, even when I knew we'd still have about a year or so at the very least.

In response to his question I shook my head.

_'Not really. I know Minato is going to become the Fourth, but everyone knows that. Other than that I've got nothing.'_

Itachi nodded, his eyes having a very self satisfied gleam.

_'Then we have a plan.'_

My twin looked so proud. I chuckled.

_'Yes we do. I'll tell mother I know about the future, and as proof I'll say she'll get pregnant and will have a boy. I'll also tell her I'll be able to predict his name before she ever tells us. Then I'll tell her Kushina is going to have a son as well, only a little younger than Sasuke, and that she's going to name him Naruto. And make mother swear she won't tell Kushina or Minato until they themselves tell her.'_

It might be simple, but that didn't mean it was a bad plan. It offered just enough proof, without raising suspicion until after it has already happened.

 _'When are you going to tell them?'_ My twin questioned, the only point we still needed to agree on. It only took a moment to decide.

_'After Minato becomes the Fourth. I'm pretty sure the war will be over by then and –'_

Itachi grabbed my hands, interrupting me.

 _'The war is going to end? You're sure of this?'_ His desperation and hope was painful to see. And I realized I should've told him about all of this long before.

Because the certainty this horror wouldn't go on forever has always been one of my greatest comforts. And while I'd said as much to my twin, and had said so often, it wasn't the same as _knowing_.

I looked into my twin's eyes and projected every ounce of confidence I possessed. Tried to radiate my complete and utter certainty.

_'The war is going to end. And we're going to win.'_

The smile Itachi gave was heartbreaking in it's intensity, a joy I hadn't realized was missing from my twin suddenly reappearing. How long had my twin been suffering from this? How had I not noticed?

I shifted even closer.

 _'We're going to have peace again Itachi. I promise.'_ The slightest tremble ran across his hands, more telling than words could ever be.

And then my twin laughed, a gorgeous sound full of happiness, carefree and light. I couldn't help but join in. Life seemed so much brighter.

We had a workable plan. We were going to stop the Kyuubi attack from ever happening.

And most importantly of all, Itachi was happy.

**Author's Note:**

> My [tumblr](https://loekas.tumblr.com/)


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